MARY BLAIR BEEBE 
C. WILLIAM BEEBE 


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1910 


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BY C. WILLIAM BEEBE 


THE BIRD, TTs FORM AND 
FUNCTION 


With colored Frontispiece and 371 Tlus- 
trations, chiefly photographed from Life by 
the Author. American Nature Series. New 
York: Henry Holt and Company. 8vo. 


$3.50 net. 


THE LOG. OF THE, Sus 


A Chronicle of Nature’s Year. With fifty- 
two full-page illustrations by Walter King 
Stone, and numerous Vignettes and photo- 
graphs from Life. New York: Henry Holt 
and Company. 8vo., full gilt. $6.00 net. 


TWO BIRD-LOVERS IN MEXICO 


Illustrated with photographs from Life 
taken by the Author. Boston: Houghton 
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‘ Digitized by the Internet Archive 
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(Frontispiece) 


IN THE SOUTH AMERICAN WILDERNESS. 


OUR SEARCH FOR A 
WILDERNESS 


AN ACCOUNT OF TWO ORNITHOLOGICAL EXPEDITIONS 
TO VENEZUELA AND TO BRITISH GUIANA 


BY 


henk) “BLAIK BEEBE 


AND 
CWALELANM. BEEBE 


Curator of Ornithology in the New Vork Zoblogical Park; Fellow of the 
New York Academy of Sciences; Member of the American 
Ornithologists’ Union and Corresponda- 
ing Member of the London 
Zodblogical Society 


ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS FROM LIFE 
TAKEN BY THE AUTHORS 


NEW YORK 
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
IQIO 


COPYRIGHT, 1910, 


BY 
HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 


Published April, 1910 


Stanbope [Press 
F. H. GILSON COMPANY 
BOSTON, U.S.A. 


To 
JupcE AnD Mrs. ROGER A. PRYOR 
With the deepest affection and admiration 


of 
their Granddaughter 


MARY BLAIR BEEBE 


and of 


C. WILLIAM BEEBE 


PREPACKE. 


In the following pages we have set down the tale of two 
searches for a wilderness. ‘These two private expeditions 
were undertaken for the purpose of learning something about 
the birds and other wild creatures of countries further south 
than any we had yet visited. Both trips were successful; 
for the regions we explored were wilderness wonderlands, — 
full of beauty, abounding in the romance which ever en- 
hances wild creatures and wild men, and they were part 
of the great zoological “ dark continent ’’ which we hope to 
devote our lives to studying. 

On our first search the collecting of live birds was inci- 
dental, although we brought back forty specimens of fourteen 
species. 

On the second search, however, we took with us an 
assistant, Mr. Lee S. Crandall. By his assiduity in trapping 
and in arousing the interest of native coolie and black boys, 
he assembled a splendid collection of almost three hundred 
living birds of fifty-one species. These we brought to the 
New York Zoological Park, where no less than thirty-three 
species were new to the collection. In addition many small 
mammals and reptiles were collected. 


Part I. 


We left New York on February 22d, 1908, on the Royal 
Mail Steamship “ Trent,” and after touching at Jamaica, 
Colon, Savanilla and La Guayra, we disembarked at Port 
of Spain, Trinidad, on March goth. Leaving this port in a 


Venezuelan sloop we cruised among the cafos north of the 
ix 


x PREFACE. 


Orinoco Delta, and explored the country about the Vene- 
zuelan Pitch Lake — La Brea. 

To Mr. Eugene André of Trinidad, we are deeply in- 
debted for a hundred kindnesses which did much to make 
our trip a success. We wish also to express gratitude to 
Mr. Mole, Mr. Anduse and especially to the late Mr. Ellis 


Grell. 
Parr th 


On the 15th of February, 1909, we sailed from New York 
on the Steamship ‘‘ Coppename ”’ of the Royal Dutch West 
Indian Mail, and with only a single stop — Barbadoes — 
reached Georgetown, British Guiana, on the 24th of the 
same month. 

In British Guiana we made three expeditions; two as 
the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Gaylord Wilshire, having 
as our objective points two gold mines in the midst of 
the wilderness, the first at Hoorie in the northwest, the 
second on the Little Aremu in central Guiana. On these 
expeditions we were spared all the usual annoyances of 
transportation; food and servants and everything at the 
mines were put at our service to facilitate our study of the 
nature life of the country. The third trip to the savanna 
region further south was made at the invitation of Mr. and 
Mrs. Lindley Vinton, two Americans living in Georgetown, © 
who placed their home at our disposal while we remained 
in Georgetown. 

During our entire stay in British Guiana we received 
unfailing courtesy and kindness, — from the Governor, 
Sir Frederick Hodgson, down to the great black hospitable 
wilderness police. Professor J. B. Harrison allowed us to 
use the old aviaries at the Botanical Gardens, and with 
Mr. James Rodway of the Georgetown Museum and 
Mr. B. Howell Jones, extended to us all the courtesies in 
his power. 


PREFACE. a 


For figures 97, 98, 108, 144, and 158 we are indebted to 
Dr. Hiram Bingham, and figures 83, 109, 130, and 131 are 
from photographs belonging to the New York Zodlogical 
Society and were taken by Mr. E. R. Sanborn. All the 
others were taken by ourselves with a Graflex Camera and 
27-inch Goerz lens, and a pocket Kodak, both 4 by 5 in 
size. 

The first two chapters appeared in their original form in 
‘“‘ Harper’s Monthly Magazine,” and the third chapter in 
“* Recreation.” 

Our thanks are due to Dr. William T. Hornaday, Direc- 
tor of the New York Zoological Park, for the leave of absence 
which made possible these expeditions. 


Three appendices have been added. The first is a 
classified list of the birds, with their scientific names, which 
are mentioned in the book; by no means a complete list 
of those observed. Reference to it is facilitated by the 
superior numbers affixed throughout the text to the names 
of the birds. ‘The second appendix gives the native Guianan 
names of the commoner species of birds. ‘The third is a list 
of the insects observed at Hoorie which have been identified 
up to the present time. 

Wherever in this volume it has seemed best for any reason 
that certain chapters should be written by one of the authors 
alone, the writer’s name has been given at the head of the 
chapter. In all chapters not thus designated the authors 
have collaborated. 


MARY BLAIR BEEBE, 
C. WILLIAM BEEBE. 


January, 1910. 


pit. 


VIII. 


B. 


CONTENTS. 


fant) OUR FIRST SEARCH. 
VENEZUELA. 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE.... 
THE LAKE OF PITCH. f3 oe 
A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA.. 


PARE AL OUR SECOND SEARCH, 


BRITISH GUIANA. 
GEORGETOWN. ey, net 
STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 
A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS WITH 
INDIANS AND CANOE. ; 

THE WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO 
AREMU . i AS Net eae 

JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU . Bae ed Suen Oe hee 

JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU iCbneaueit, Fae Rtaen ae oe 

ane LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS........ 


APPENDICES. 


CLASSIFIED LIST OF BIRDS MENTIONED IN 
THIS VOLUME. a ear: 

NATIVE GUIANAN NAMES OF BIRDS. 

ALPHABETICAL LISTS OF BIRDS....... 


13 et 


134 


FIG. 


Pieter FELUST RATIONS. 


PAGE 
In the South American Wilderness. Frontts piece 
1. Map of our Trip through the Mangrove Wilderness ........... 2 
meas sae Ciitctin® the Mansroves, 2. 2... F264 a eas 2 es oe 5 
Fae OE eR US a re ae ee q 
ee RIPE NE ERNE RES oS. sine scale PER ole cox news aes, EL 
ere ee eRe MaIRO aS OIG AEOSIL Sok. OL he Ria ik ees Se RD wel ea 13 
6. Parrot Puff-fish . fe Nae Ase ne Pe Soe eee eee MAS) | TK 
7- Four-eyed Fish. ida 5 ONS a, SEN OE a eT SO RE 16 
8. ee wis die Tome arb Ceiba. eee 6 Se hs Pal ES 
g. Exploring the Cafos jo ee 2 
RMN Poel ee ent ait tng eyes Et ae Sarena 23 
TE. Sun-bittern -....... i SOP eg Ot ee Me 
12. Solution of the Mahdrove ene —an hoadoada Mh Ae ta ran ses 27 
13. Hoatzins in the Bamboos on the Guarapiche.................. 28 
z4. First Glimpse of the Venezuela Mountains....:............... 31 
15- Colony of 150 Cassiques’ Nests in One Tree. Fest @ of) g ae 
16. Nest and Eggs of Yellow-backed Cassique. . RE i Ne Mee, 
17. Venezuelan Tree Porcupine .. Pay PERE ee Pee ahd 2 ee SO 
18. Wild Chachalaca near a Geisices Hie ERS Ms ihe OL ASV Seen, be), HQ 
19. Scorpion and its Young taken from Milady? S Sige: Fe Site hin wet eas 39 
EE MCMC oes i. 2 bya og Fs Be Wide Sc elydws «Fea we Mes Says 41 
21. Owl Butterfly on Cocoa Bark.. Ma token! oahu tion wees ey a 42 
22. Lizard Alert on Trunk of oe 44 
23. The Same Lizard a Moment Lae, ‘Obiitetited iss are of 
Position . ote POS Aare aa ea oR 
24. Nest and ies of et ‘Blue isha: ieee he AUR ey sheath AE 
25: Woodhewer clinging to the Trunk of a Spiae BA eared ote eae wee) 
ME RURCREENC AUC. 00 6 vio Feo ae Panne Paw oT Aedes be). SE 
27. The Jungle Railroad... Ky VERE OAT Ae ee Ort oe TEE 6) 
28. Spider Lilies near Pitch ee tie tes ahs RPE ARE IPE etic ol ir ar ae 57 
29. La Brea — The Lake of Pitch. a eT aks Oh ANGKOR attain OSD 
30. The fatal ‘‘ Mother of the aree a Mt mth ss trek, “OF 
31. White-headed Chimachima Hawk as Eta See OE ER MO 


xXV 


XVl 


FIG. 


. Amazon Parrot at Entrance of Nest. Ten feet away 


. Sunset in the ‘Mausreve Wilticndsee 
. The Silent Savages: ..%. -% Be 
. Guarauno Indians coming to ee at eee Colaridan 

. Guarauno Squaws and Child with Monkey 
. Pitch Lake, showing freshly dug pit filled with water ; an older 


. Guarauno Indian Papoose. 
. Map of our Three Expeditions into Briel ‘Ghiage ME Dia Ia Ree 
. street in, Georgetownt = {e-- 


LIST ©F_ILLUSTRATIONS. 


. Amazon Parrot Roost, Pitch Lake. . bats 
. The Home of the Amazon Parrot in the Middle of Pitch Tae a 


Amazon Parrot at Entrance of Nest. Fifteen feet away 


Amazon Parrot about: to take: Pliglat (22g. a eee ene ee es 
Eggs and Young of Amazon Parrot in the Nest. 07-4... -<. 
Fish from the Pools in Pitch Lake. Aequidens sp............. 
Fish from the Pools in Pitch Lake. Hopflias malabaricus....... 


. Our Sloop at Guanoco. Ne hee oe 
. Venezuelan Soldiers on thee “Pontén” Giana Shig’s : 
. Captain Truxillo paddling us up the Gindpidaes ast Cais 


Colorado. . 


wre 6) 0, a) dite pe) Oar mis, ow 


pit filled with soft pitch, both surrounded by the hard surface 
pitch 


ope ee ee ee me ee a ete 86 6 Oe Be 6 ee 6 ls fee ms py se eee eee eee em ae. 


. Digging out the Black, Waxlike Pitch. . 


Loading Pitch on the Hand Cars. . 


. Mangrove Wilderness from the High Lanai at - Guaneel 

. Inhabitants of Guanoco assembled for a Dance 
. A Palm-sheath Rocking Toy. . £3 Sina 
. Sheath in Fig. 52, covering the aBiewel wD a Puke 


8) 2, FOO Fwd eee es many, to 


Priestless Chapel at Guanoco .. 


Kiskadee Tyrant Flycatcher ....-...: 
Coolie Woman and Negress.... . .. 0. 25: 0s0!s". <2 > 2 ee 


. The Georgetown Sea-wall. . .. 2 ¢ 2. 0's oe oe 2 en nee 
-/Tdadey 

. Arc- Nee. Sie 

. Victoria Resa in ie Botanical ‘Gaba 

» Lotus in Blossom... echo 2). sie) soe ow i 

.. Taliput Palm in Blossom... ...........-+-5 <0) ss eee 
. Canal of the Crocodiles. 23. 6... Ps ale oo 
. Young Elania Flycatchers. . ater ake 

. Typical Indian House at Nester haas vs ab » ghee Sateen 
. Three-year Olds at Home in their Wood-skin..............+.- 
: Mount. Everard ..0.00 0.5 2508 Gin 2 te tonne olen gan 
. Sir Everard imThurn’s House at Morawhanna................ 
. Palm Tanager. v2... cise ee ca cles @2 see) siele olen a Sie 


FIG. 


74- 
. Indian Boys in Dug-out.. es 
. Crossing a Stream on the Heaue isan Road yA owe, aoe 
up r icee Nee BEAN ok do. Soe Sloane ie aepaiwh « 
. Engine House and Flume of Hoorie Gold Mine........... 
. The ‘Little Giant’’ at Work.. ves 

. Carib Hunter and His Gite: at eee 

. Three Generations of Carib Indians. 

. Mr. Wilshire and Crandall with Hechiiesies ® 
. The Terrible Bushmaster..... 

. Panning Gold. 

. Whip Sans or Pedipalp s erie 


100. 
Iol. 
102. 
103. 
104. 
105. 
106. 
107. 
108. 
109. 
IIo. 
IIl. 
Ii2. 
113. 
II4. 
IIS. 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


A Jungle Blossom.... 


. The Drowned Forest. 
. Nests of Red-backed cates 


Barama River from Farnums’ oe FA ee 2 


Saemeeerntis OMEN GEMS MERAEL GS RETA 5 hobo! crn ix eee ont eae) lea ewe m2 
. Wake of a Manatee swimming up River.................. 
p peaiatoe browsing close’to the Bank. «0.220221... aie So 
. Manatee taking in Air and about to dive. . 
. A Vista of the Biara. ie ade ee AEN oe 
. Father Gillett and a indir Bova: Be agit eR have als oes See 
. Tropical Luxuriance. oe 
. Capybara on the Bank of a eam : 
South American Thatched House ani Nests oh ota Gas. 


siques . 


. Miles of Lilies . 


The Road to Suddie . 


Gray-breasted Reais antiie c on ithe aimee SP yarn ae eee 
Coolies and their Wives fishing on the ot sae 2 Bey hatte tes 


Falls at Lower Camaria. : 

A Butterfly Mimicking an Boren. 
Fresh-water Flying Fish..... 
Salt-water Flying Fish.. 

Cuyuni River. 


A Herd of Fight Capybaras, Six Adult one Two Young, Oe Oo 


Great Anteater. 

A Tacuba on hia arid 

Rapids on the Cuyuni.. we 
Rushing the Boat into the apis: eh 


Warping the Boat Through the Lower Wiaitipoolae Ce eee 


A Rest midway up the Rapids . 


The Fina] Struggle up to Smooth Water. SeRahe Me ik anita 


XVlll LIST ‘OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


FIG. 
116. 
TL. 
118. 
T1Q. 
I20. 
121. 
122. 
£23. 
124. 
Ge 
120. 
es 
128. 
129. 
130. 
Ee Me 
132; 
133. 
134: 
135: 


136. 
Tey 
138. 
130. 
140. 
I4I. 
142. 
143. 
144. 
145. 
146. 
FA: 
148. 
149. 
T50. 


Ter, 
152. 


rhs. 


154. 
155. 


Shooting the Rapids at Full’‘Speed:.-.... .:..: 0. seen 

A Wilderness Passion Flower — Simitt.. 

Our Camp on the Aremu River.... ‘ 

Poling under Tacubas on the Little Aree 

Tree-ferns on the Little Aremu.. . 

A Sloth in Action.. 

A Sloth Asleep. . ae 

Where only Otters ‘aia High 2 can pass. 

Aremu Gold Mine, Ee Bungalow and Tisha Shatt,. 

Descending the Shaft. - 

Walking Stick Insect. ie 

Scorpion and Gaterniiee titer hen Baits | ck ae 

Milady and the Giant Mora Pree: fa ee ieee 

Aérial Roots of Bush-rope.. . 

Tamandua.. 

Agouti. . <5 2 0 bles a ape en 

Nest aha ere of White- ‘fhrbated Ronn wiles 6, nl gaat rr 

Section of Paddle-wood Tree. . 

Phonetic Caterpillars. . 

First Phase of Curassow Siete a : Stow ‘Walk wit Raed 

"Tail: ‘Rear View. 9.205)... 20 ae vein oe See 0 ee eee 

The Same... Side View.trs2 4 oy. sees ee 

Second Phase of Curassow Strutting . 

Third Phase of Curassow Strutting .. 

Golden-crowned Manakin lifted from Nest. 

Young Dusky Parrots. 

Early Morning in the Wilderness, 3 

Indian Hunter bringing in a Daan re 

American Egret on the Abary River Savanna.............. 

Nest and Young of Jabiru... rs 

Gray-necked Tree-ducks rising beeen the ‘Samana 

Our Bungalow on Abary Island...... ee Se 

Map of Abary Island’. #).2 5.4.0 -.1:<08 Seaehe 0 Siegen = 

Abary River, showing High Growth on West Bank... 

Spider Lily near Abary Island. . 

Nest of a Hoatzin in the Mace: wae on ihe these ‘Bie 
FEO sb spcneieigd Saal atd bas Swe Se oka ete oll 6h fs pre ee 

The Author Photographing Hoatzins. . Raise ee aS. 

(A) Female Hoatzin flushed from her nest; valle Male Bird 
approaching. . 

(B) Female fae in Ate same Bosition: the Malet havin 
flown Neavery <6. < San $o S01 oe a ee ie ee Be 

(C) Male Hoatzin alarmed and about to take Flight ........-. 

(D) Female Hoatzin crouching to avoid Observation. ......... 


FIG. 
156. 


157. 
158. 
159. 
160. 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. X1x 


PAGE 
(E) Female Hoatzin taking flight, with wings fully spread; a 
second pair of .birds leaving their nest in the back-ground .. 375 


eee ee UES TPE ARTIS 8k ons of ss Se eae Sa ode we en P3877 
Crocodiles on a South American River Bank................. 380 
Lagoon between Abary Island and River.................... 382 


Prerese sel WIESE aA ee, 2 ss 2 se eo as oe Ba se dt ee aes 384 


PART £ 
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VENEZUELA 


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OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS 


CHAPTER. -I. 
THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 


NE day late in March, just as the tropical sun was 

sinking from view, our barefooted Spanish crew pulled 
up anchor from the muddy bottom of Port of Spain’s har- 
bor. Slowly the sails filled, and the spray began to fly from 
the bow as we steered straight into the crimson path of the 
sunset. Behind us the lofty Trinidad ranges glowed softly; 
great velvety peaks and ridges, purpled by distance, gilded 
by the last rays of day. ‘Then the twilight passed swiftly 
as if the sun had been quenched by the waters which cov- 
ered its face; the mountains became merged into the dark- 
ness of the sky, and the city of busy life behind us melted 
into a linear constellation of twinkling lights. 

We had chartered a little sloop of twenty-one tons, the 
‘Josefa Jacinta” (Ho-say’fah Hah-seen’tah), manned by a 
captain, a cook and a crew of three. At her masthead 
flew the flag of Venezuela. With a month’s provisions in 
the hold and all the varied paraphernalia of a naturalist, 
we were headed for the northern part of the Orinoco delta 
in search of the primitive wilderness of which we had 
dreamed. 

Jamaica, Colon, Savanilla, La Guayra had passed in quick 
succession, and we were surprised to find Trinidad the most 
modern and wide-awake of all. The well-appointed hotels, 

3 


4. OUR SEARCH FOR A-WILDERNESS. 


the trolleys, electric lights, museums, and newspapers of 
Port of Spain, the wireless station even now flashing its 
aérial messages from yonder peak, — all boded ill for our 
search for primeval conditions. Was there no spot left on 
earth, we wondered, which could truthfully be called an 
untrodden wilderness!— jungles untouched by axe or fire, 
where guns had not replaced bows and arrows; where the 
creatures of the wilderness were tame through unfamiliarity 
with human beings! 


The Southern Cross rose and straightened its arms; the 
Pole Star hung low in the north. As the night wore on, an 
ugly sea arose and half buried our little craft in foam and 
spray. A cross-wind disputed our advance and the strong 
tide drove us out of our course. But our captain had navi- 
gated these waters for more than half a century, and we had 
no fears. 

The following day was as wild as the night, and no living 
thing appeared in sky or sea, save a host of milky jelly-fish 
(Stomolophus meleagris). ‘They kept below the surface, and 
seemed to suffer no damage from the roughness of the water. 
In an area of a square yard we counted twenty, and for hour 
after hour we passed through vast masses of them, extending 
to the farthest waves visible on either hand and as deep 
down as our eyes could penetrate — myriads upon myriads 
of these lowly beings, each vibrating with life, and yet un- 
able to guide its course against the tide, or to do aught but 
pulsate slowly along. | 

Later in the day, although the water grew less rough, the 
whole company sank lower in the muddy depths — muddy, 
because the brown waters of the great Orinoco hold sway 
over all this gulf and scatter out at sea the sediment washed 
from the banks far inland. 

Finally the storm passed and we saw a blue cloud to the 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 5 


north, hinting of the great mountain ranges of the Spanish 
Main. Ahead, a low green mist along the horizon told us 
we were nearing shore. This became more and more dis- 
tinct until we could make out individual trees. By noon we 
had left the tumultuous waters of the Gulf of Paria, and were 
floating quietly on a broad stream between two majestic 
walls of green; we had entered our wilderness, and the silence 


Fic. 2, Our SLOOP ENTERING THE MANGROVES. 


and beauty of our reception seemed all the more vivid after 
the noise and turbulence of the wind and water behind us. 
Our first impression was of a vast solitude. It was mid- 
day, and the tide was almost at its height. With limp sails 
we drifted silently onward, not a sound of life coming from 
the green depths about us. We skirted the mangroves 
along the south bank, moving more and more slowly, until 
at last we rested motionless on the water, between the blazing 


6 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


sky overhead and the muddy depths beneath. The tide had 
reached its highest, and, like the living creatures of the 
jungle, rested in the midday heat. The captain gave a gruff 
order in Spanish, and the anchor splashed into the water, 
dragging the chain after with a sudden roar and jangle which 
echoed from shore to shore — jarring the silence as would a 
shriek of pain in a cathedral. 

A chatter came from the mangroves near at hand, and 
high up among the dense foliage we saw the first life of the 
continent —a wistful littlke human face gazing out at us, 
a capuchin monkey striving with wrinkled brows to make 
out what we were. At his call two others came and looked; 
then, as our sail came down with a rattle of halyards, the 
trio fled through the branches with all the speed which four 
hands and a tail could lend. 

We spent the afternoon in getting our floating home ready 
for use. No more waves would be encountered, so every- 
thing was unlashed. Stereo-glasses, camera-plates, and am- 
munition were placed ready to hand; the galley stove was 
moved far forward, and a mosquito-proof tent of netting was 
erected under the tarpaulin in the stern. 

The sun had sunk low in the west when we saw a long, 
narrow dug-out canoe coming downstream. An Indian 
woman and her baby were crouched in the bow, while in the 
stern a naked Indian paddled swiftly and silently. His skin 
shone like coppery bronze in the sunlight, his long black hair 
was bound back from his face by a thong of hide. In front 
of him rested a bow and arrows and a long fish-spear. Silently 
he approached and in silence he passed — unheeding our 
salutations. 

One more beauty of this wild wonderland was vouchsafed 
us before night fell. We had been disappointed in the birds. 
Where were the myriads of water-fowl of which we had 
heard? We had seen nothing — not a single feather. But 


GLE TREE. 


4 


THE LAND OF A SI 


*“LHOITAY NI SASIG[ LATAVOS 


¢ ‘Oly 


8 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


now the scene slowly changed. The tide was falling 
rapidly, swirling and eddying past the boat, and the roots 
of the mangroves began to protrude, their long stems shining 
black until the water dried from them. .Mud-flats appeared, 
and suddenly, without warning, a living flame passed us — 
and we had seen our first Scarlet Ibis*’.* 

Past the dark green background of mangrove foliage the 
magnificent bird flew swiftly — flaming with a brilliance 
which shamed any pigment of human art. Blood red, 
intensest vermilion, deepest scarlet — all fail to hint of the 
living color of the bird. Before we could recover from our 
delight a flock of twenty followed, flying close together, with 
bills and feet scarlet like the plumage. They swerved from 
their path and alighted on the mud close to the mangroves, 
and began feeding at once. Then a trio of snowy-white 
Egrets” with trailing plumes floated overhead; others appeared 
above the tops of the trees; a host of tiny Sandpipers skimmed 
the surface of the water and scurried over the flats. Great 
Cocoi Herons *' swept majestically into view; Curlews and 
Plover * assembled in myriads, lining the mud-flats at the 
water’s edge, while here and there, like jets of flame against 
the mud, walked the vermilion Ibises. Terns “ with great 
yellow bills flew about the sloop, and Skimmers ” ploughed — 
the surface of the tide in endless furrows. Macaws™ began 
to pass, shrieking as they flew, two and two together — and 
then night closed quickly over all. From the zenith the sun 
had looked down upon a stream as quiet as death; it sank 
upon a scene full of the animation of a myriad forms of life. 

As dusk settled down and hid the shore from our eyes, 
another sense was aroused, and to our ears came the sounds 
of night in these tropical jungles — a thousand cries, moans, 

* The superior figures following the names of birds throughout the 


volume refer to a list of their scientific names given for identification in 
Appendix A. 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 9 


crashes; all mysterious — unexplainable. In time we became 
so accustomed to them that we could distinguish repetitions 
and details, but this first night brought only a confused 
chorus of delightful mystery, now broken by a moment of 
silence, now rising to an awe-inspiring climax. One sound 
only remained clear in our memory, often repeated, now 
uttered in lower, now in higher tones —a terrible choking 
sigh. It might have been the last death gasp of some 
great monkey, or the pitiful utterance of hopelessness of a 
madman. 

With the turn of the tide we raised anchor and drifted 
through the night — mile after mile for six hours, and then 
anchored again. And thus it was that we came to our 
wilderness. 


Not until we had been in the mangrove jungle for many 
days did we begin to realize its vastness, its mystery, its 
primeval character. Just four hundred and ten years ago 
Christopher Columbus sailed through the gulf we had left 
and gazed on the dark forest in the heart of which we 
now were. ‘Throughout the whole extent of the mangrove 
wilderness we found no hint that conditions were not as 
they were in 1408. 

One of the most astonishing things about the mangrove 
forest is the apparent diversity of its plant life. Until one 
actually comes within reach of trunk and leaves it is impos- 
sible to believe that all this forest is composed of a single 
species of plant. The foliage of some of the trees is light, of 
others dark; here stands a clump of pale beechlike trunks, 
there a dark, rough-barked individual is seen. The manner 
of growth of the young and old trees is so different that a 
confusion of mingled trees, shrubs, and vines seems to con- 
front one. But everywhere the mangrove reigns supreme. 
It is the only vegetable growth which can gain a footing in 


IO OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


this world of salt water. In fact, it makes its own footing, 
entangling and holding mud and débris about its stems, and 
ever blindly reaching out dangling roots, like the legs of 
gigantic spiders. 

Far out on the tip of a lofty branch a mangrove seed will 
germinate, before it falls assuming the appearance of a 
loaded club from eight to fifteen inches in length. One day 
it lets go and drops like a plummet into the soft mud, where 
it sticks upright. Soon the tide rises, and if there is too 
strong a current the young plant is swept away, to perish 
far out at sea; but if it can maintain its hold, roots soon 
spring out, and the ideal of the mangrove is realized, the 
purpose for which all this interesting phenomena is intended: 
the forest has gained a few yards, and mud and leaves will 
soon choke out the intervening water. 

The mangroves have still another method of gaining new 
territory. Aérial roots are thrown out from branches high 
in air, swinging downward and outward with a curve which 
sometimes wins three or four yards ahead. Like hawsers 
thrown from a vessel to a wharf these roots clutch at the mud 
beneath, but where the current runs swiftly they swing and 
dangle in vain, until they have grown so heavy that they 
touch bottom some distance downstream. We made use of — 
these dangling roots as anchors for our canoe, bending the 
elastic unattached end upward and springing it over the 
gunwale. 

Throughout all this great region there is not a foot of solid 
ground. In one place we pushed a tall shoot some eight feet 
in height straight down through the mud, and it went out of 
sight. A man falling on this mud, out of reach of aid, would 
vanish as in a quick-sand. So the wild creatures of the 
mangroves must either swim, fly, or climb. No terrestrial 
beings can exist there. We once selected a favorable place, 
and for fifty yards made our way over the roots and branches 


II 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 


‘“SINVId HZAOMONVIN ONNOA ‘PV ‘OLA 


5 PEAR ae NE ae 


rato 


i2 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. - 


before exhaustion and an impassable gap of mud and water 
stopped all progress. As never before we realized how safe 
from man are the denizens of these strange swamps. Mon- 
keys fled swiftly before us, birds rose and flew overhead, 
while we painfully crept and pulled ourselves along over the 
slippery stems. 

More wonderful even than the coral polyps are these man- 
groves, for by this plant alone all this region has been rescued 
from the sea and built up into land. In future years, as the 
mud banks become higher and are fertilized by the ever- 
falling leaves, other growths will appear, and finally the coast 
of the continent will be. thus extended by many scores of 
miles of fertile soil. 

A network of narrow channels stretches through this 
wilderness and allowed us to explore the far interior In our 
shallow curiara or dug-out. Thus we spent days and weeks 
in search of the creatures which lived in this land of a single 
tree, and here we learned how delightful the climate of such 
a region can be. Every night we slept under blankets, and 
during the day the temperature ranged from 66° at five and 
six o'clock in the morning to about 86° at noon, although we 
were within nine degrees of the equator.* One could paddle 
all day with more comfort than on a hot summer day in the 
north. By day mosquitoes were generally absent, and only a 


* Actual temperatures (Fahrenheit) taken in the mangrove forest on 
board the sloop are as follows: 


March 30th — April 28t == 
5.30 A.M. 66° 6.00 A.M. 73° 
9.30 86° 10.00 80° 
1.36 86° 2.00 P.M. 85° 
1.30 P.M. 86° 6.00 80° 
7.00 78° 
March 31st — April 2nd — 
5.30 A.M. 71° 5.30 A.M. 69° 


6.30 92° 7:30 a 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 13 


few biting flies reminded us of the “terrible insect scourges”’ 
of the tropics. Life was delightfully new and strange, with 
the spice of danger ever attendant upon the exploration of 
unknown lands. 


Fic. 5. THE CRUCIFIX IN THE CATFISH. 


The fishes attracted our attention from the first. When 
we came on deck before sunrise for a plunge, our little vessel 
would be surrounded by hosts of catfish (Pseudauchent pterus 
nodosus) all, like our sloop, headed upstream against the tide. 
They would bite indifferently at bait, a bit of cloth, or a bare 
hook, and were delicious eating. On the bottom our hooks 
would sometimes be taken by great fierce-whiskered cats, 


14 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


bedecked with long streamers, which gave no end of trouble 
before they were quieted. They were pale yellow, and the 
head and back were encased in bone; Maestro —the cook — 
called them the crucifix fish, and later showed us why. On 
the under surface of the bony armor is a large cross witha 
halo about it Just above the arms. ‘The crew never caught 
one of these fish without making the sign of the cross in their 
right palm. 

When the tide was half down the funniest of puff-fishes 
(Calomesus psittacus), or tambourines as the Captain called 
them, would take our bait. They were from three to five 
inches long, white below, and pale greenish above crossed 
by seven black bands, the first across the mouth and the 
seventh at the tip of the caudal fin. There was also a black 
patch at the base of the pectoral fins. The iris was bright 
lemon yellow. When gently scratched on the lower parts, 
or sometimes even when just lifted from the water they 
would swell up into a round ball. They were covered with 
short, stiff bristles which stood on end when the fish was in- 
flated, and their comical appearance was increased by the four 
rodent-like incisor teeth in the front of the mouth. When 
thus inflated with air they were helpless for a time, and if 
thrown back, floated belly upward at the mercy of the wind 
and current, until they were able to collapse to normal size. 

On one of our first excursions among the mangroves in our 
small canoe we made a most interesting discovery. Here 
and there, sprawled out on the mud-flats, were small croc- 
odiles, and occasionally a large one would rush off into the 
water at our approach. Hugging the edge of the tide where 
the ripples lapped back and forth on the black ooze were many 
other living creatures. For a long time we could not make 
them out, but finally, drifting silently upon a whole school, 
we knew them for four-eyed fish (Anableps anableps) — 
strange creatures which we had hoped to see. 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 15 


We came to a tiny bayou, shaped lke a bottle, from which 
four Little Blue Herons ** flew as we approached. We placed 
our dug-out corklike athwart the mouth and anchored with 
our crossed paddles. The air was warm, bees hummed 
about the tiny four-parted flowers of the mangroves, and a 
great blue morpho butterfly flapped past, mirrored in the 
water beneath. Then came tragedy — never far off in this 
land of superabundant life. A small clay-colored crocodile 


Fic. 6. PARROT PUFF-FISH. 


made a sudden rush at a ripple, and a quartet of four-eyes 
shot from the water in frantic fear. One was slower than the 
rest, and the fierce jaws of the diminutive reptile just grazed 
him. Another fell back downward in the ooze, and in a 
twinkling was caught and dragged into the depths. No 
wonder the poor little four-eyes are ever on the lookout for 
danger and spend most of their time where they merge with 
the ripples along the shore, when such enemies are on the 
watch for them! 


16 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


A whir of wings sounded, and a Kingfisher ® alighted within 
arm’s reach. But such a Kingfisher! — the veriest mite, clad 
in a robe of brilliant emerald and orange. So small was he 
that it seemed as if the tiniest of minnows must choke him. 
He seemed to be of the same opinion, for while we watched 
him he caught only the insects which passed him in mid-air 
or which were floating on the water. 

By far the most numerous, and in their way the most 
interesting of the mangroves’ inhabitants, were the crabs. 


Fic. 7. FOUR-EYED FISH. 


There were untold millions of them, all small, all active and 
keen of vision. If we sat quietly, they would appear from 
everywhere, peeping out like little gnomes from their perches 
on the mangroves, forever playing their noiseless little fiddles. 
These tiny tree-folk not only played, but danced. Let us 
picture a scene constantly enacted, so close to us that we 
could all but touch the performers. Two crabs approach 
each other, now fiddling vigorously, now waving their diminu- 
tive pincers back and forth over their heads as a ballet- 
dancer waves her arms. They move never in straight lines, 
but sideways, now running back a few steps, now forward, 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 7 


until at last they meet, and each grasping the other’s claws, 
raises them aloft, and then for five minutes they circle about 
in most ludicrous imitation of a waltz. All this usually takes 
place on the /ower surface of a mangrove trunk, the inverted 
position apparently making no less secure the footing of the 
little dancers. We could not decide whether this perform- 
ance was in the nature of courtship or just pure play. 

What we did discover concerning the lives of these crabs 
was full of interest. Hundreds of the smallest-sized ones 
lived in holes in the mud, and when the tide went down they 
came out and ran about — intent on some all-important busi- 
ness of their little existence. Another class of larger individ- 
uals had their holes near the roots of the mangroves, one 
(rarely two) good-sized crab apparently taking possession of 
each root. Here he disported himself, running up and down, 
from the water into the air with no change in speed, and here, 
strangest of all, he grew to resemble his home root. There 
was as great diversity among the roots as among the larger 
trunks — whitish, black, mottled, and all intervening shades. 
It was a fact, of which we had hundreds of daily proofs, that 
the crabs were so like their particular root that often we could 
not detect the quiescent crustacean when within a foot of our 
faces. 

There was one group of five black roots forming a rough 
circle about a single mottled root. As we approached, a 
crab ran down each stalk into the water, and as we peered 
down and saw them go into their holes, we could at a glance 
tell the mottled crab from the five black ones. Even the roots 
which were as yet a foot or more above the bottom mud 
each had their occupant, which thus had to swim upward 
from his hole before he could grasp his swaying perch. 

A third class of crabs lived among the higher trunks and 
branches of the mangroves, and, except where there was 
a highroad of some large trunk dipping into the water, these 


18 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


less fortunate fellows had to scamper in frantic haste up the 
roots of their larger brethren. ‘The indignant owner would 
rush at the trespasser with uplifted pincers, sometimes forc- 
ing him to leap for his life. Where an unusually large tree 
was frequented by many crabs, their carapaces bore a close 


Fic. 8. Our FLOATING HoME At LA CEIBA. 


resemblance to its pattern and hue, but among these more 
aérial and roving crabs the mimicry was, on the whole, less 
striking than among the sedentary class. In the latter, pro- 
tective coloration was carried to a greater degree of perfec- 
tion than I have ever seen it elsewhere. These were loath to 
leave their roots and swim, preferring to run swiftly down until 
they reached the mud. This habit made it easy to catch them, 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 19 


merely by taking the end of the root aboard and shaking it, 
when the unsuspecting crab would rush down in all haste into 
a pail or jar held at the bottom. 

They have many enemies, not only among fish, reptiles, and 
birds, but even some of the mammals, such as opossums and 
monkeys, catch and devour them in large numbers. We 
saw a beautiful Hawk,” bright chestnut in color, with a pale 
creamy head and black throat, dashing at them and skil- 
fully catching the unfortunate crabs in one outstretched 
foot. 

Scores of other beings of still more lowly degree swarmed 
about us, but as the tide lapped out of our little bayou, the 
four-eyes again attracted our attention. ‘They began to get 
restless, swimming back and forth and shuffling over the mud, 
until at last in desperation at the ebbing of their element, they 
made a dash to get past us into the open water of the cafio. 
Some dived, but so buoyant are they that they can scarcely 
stay below a second, and soon popped up on the surface again. 
Others scrambled, rolled, and squirmed along over the ooze on 
each side of us, many making good progress and escaping. 
We caught several and placed them in an aquarium for study. 
When hard pressed in deep water these curious fish progress 
by a series of leaps — up on their tail end and down again, 
up and down again, describing a series of curves and making 
very fast time. 

When examined closely we see that these fish have only two 
eyes, but these are divided in such a way that there appear 
to be double that number. There are two distinct pupils, one 
elevated above the head like the eyes of a frog, the other 
separated by a band of tissue and below the water-line. So 
when the fish floats in its normal position at the surface the 
upper pupils, fitted for vision in the air, watch for danger 
above, while the lower pair keeps a submarine lookout for 
insect food and aquatic enemies. 


20 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Monkeys are perfectly at home in this land of branches, 
the ever-cautious capuchins and now and then a long-limbed 
spider monkey swinging through the trees with as easy a 
motion as the flight of a bird. Biggest of all are the great 
red howlers, who keep to the deeper, more narrow channels, 
and in the evening and again at dawn send their voices to the 
farthest limits of the mangroves. They do not howl, they 
roar, and the sound is perfectly suited to such a wilderness 
as this. Before the first signs of day light up the east, a low, 
soft moaning comes through the forest, like the forewarning 
of a storm through pine trees. This gains in volume and 
depth until it becomes a roar. It is no wind now, nor like 
anything one ever hears in the north; it is a deep, grating, 
rumbling roar — a voice of the tropics; a hint of the long-past 
ages when speech was yet unformed. We grew to love the 
rhythm of this wild music, and it will always be for us the 
memory-awakening sound of the tropical wilderness. 

The wealth of life in this region was evident when we 
began to explore a river flowing down from the highlands 
in the far-distant interior of Venezuela. One could spend 
a year here and not begin to exhaust the wonders on every 
hand. 

With every high tide the Captain would pull up anchor and 
shift our craft a little upstream, until at last our keel touched 
bottom and we could go no farther. We anchored firmly 
and buoyed ourselves by ropes to the nearest trees so as to 
keep on an even keel. This, our home for a time, was in a 
little bight of the Guarapiche (War-ah-pee’chy) River, where 
two tumbled-down, long deserted Indian huts still retained 
the name of La Ceiba. We were so close to the left bank 
that at low tide we could walk ashore on oars laid down 
over the mud. Here the birds came and fed and bathed, 
here the howling monkeys roared over our very heads and 
Macaws swung and shrieked at us. 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. aX 


Fic. 9. EXPLORING THE CANos IN A DUG-OUT. 


22 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


One night, during a heavy downpour of rain, we were sud- 
denly awakened by a medley of cries, imprecations, shrieks and 
yells. Flashing the strong electric bulb we saw through the 
sheets of rain a very large curiara run afoul of our shore line; 
piled high with luggage, with several screaming women 
perched high on the bundles and boxes. Four pigs, tied feet 
upward, swelled the chorus in their fear of a watery grave and 
four men told us what they thought of us in the present and 
where they hoped we would spend the future centuries until 
the world’s end. Our Captain was out of his hammock in a 
moment and in tremendous basso profundo he silenced all, 
save the pigs, and rapidly gave directions to our crew to row 
upstream against the swirling current, clear the curiara and 
shift it outside the danger zone. Between breaths, he inci- 
dentally described minutely to the terrified natives what he 
knew would be the ultimate fate of such fools as tried to 
descend a river on the wrong side. It was a miracle that the 
whole outfit did not overturn — a narrow dug-out, measur- 
ing about twenty feet in length by two in width, striking full 
force against a rope in the blackness of the storm. 

Early in the morning the roaring of the monkeys would 
awaken us, and after a hasty breakfast we would start out in 
our little boat. At this time everything is dripping and 
fresh with dew, and there is a bite and tang in the air which 
reminds us of Canadian dawns. It is still dusk, and the 
lines of mangroves on either side show only as black walls. 
For some minutes hardly a sound breaks the stillness except 
the distant roars and the drip, drip of our paddles. Then a 
sudden splashing and breaking of branches shows that we 
are discovered by a pair or more of capybaras ({ydrochoerus 
capybara), those enormous rodents which would pass as 
guinea pigs in Gulliver’s land of giants. Now an overhang- 
ing branch drenches us as we brush against it, and as it is 
pushed aside a whole armful of orchids comes away, the 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 23 


pure white blossoms (Epzdendrum fragrans) filling the cafio 
with their sweetness. Now the delicate foliage of a palm is 
silhouetted for a moment against the brightening eastern sky, 
and a mass of great convolvulous blossoms shines out from 
the shore. By this we know that we are not many miles 
from dry ground, and other growths are already beginning to 
dispute the dominance of the mangroves. 


FIG. 10. WHITE ORCHIDS. 


Silence again, to be broken by one of the most remarkable 
and startling outbursts of sound which any living creature 
in the world can utter. A series of unconnected sighs, 
shrieks, screams, and metallic trumpet-like notes suddenly 
breaking forth apparently within thirty feet, is surely excuse 
enough for being startled. ‘The hubbub ceases as abruptly 
as it began; then again it breaks out, now seeming to come 
from all directions, even from overhead. ‘The author of all 


24 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


this is the Chachalaca’— a bird not larger than a common 
fowl, but with a longer tail. It spends most of its time on 
the ground or among the lower branches of the trees in the 
swamps. It was seldom that we caught sight of one, but we 
shall never forget the first time we heard their diabolical 
chorus. 

The sun’s rays now light up the narrow path of water ahead 
of us, and a thousand creatures seem to awaken and give 
voice at once. Two splendid Yellow and Blue Macaws™ fly 
high overhead, their screams softened by the distance; a 
flock of great white-billed, Red-crested Woodpeckers® drum 
and call; from the bank comes the rolling cry of the Tina- 
mou and the sweet, penetrating double note of the Sun- 
bittern’; Hummingbirds squeak in their flight as they shake 
the dew-drops from the orchids above us; squirrels with fur 
of orange and gray scramble through the branches, fleeing 
before the little capuchin monkeys. Then, one after another, 
three splendid Swallow-tailed Kites* dash past us at full 
speed, brushing the surface of the water and floating upward 
again. 

Swallows,"® emerald and white, catch the flies which hover 
near us; a big yellow-breasted Flycatcher alights for a moment 
on the bow of our boat — and a tropical day is fairly begun. 
These and a hundred other creatures about us bathe, sing, 
and seek their food during the fresh hours of early morning. 
Then, as the sun rises higher and its heat draws a hush over 
all, the notes of the birds die away, leaving the insect vocalists 
supreme. Butterflies click here and there, a loud humming 
tells of huge wasps winging their way on murderous missions, 
but above all rises the chant of the cicadas. ‘The commonest 
of these grinds out harsh, reverberating tones — whir-r-r-r-r-r! 
wh-r-r! wh-r-r! wh-r-r! wh-r-r! rolling the r’s in the first 
utterance for a minute or more, then ending in a series of 
short, abrupt whirs. 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. a5 


Then another cicada, a giant species, sends his call through 
the jungle; he has two strings to his bow, one a half-note 
higher than the other, and on these he plays for five minutes 
at a time. It is Chinese music to the very tone. Some- 
times his tune ends in a rising shriek, and we know that one 
of the big blue wasps has descended on him and stabbed him 
in the midst of his love-song. 


Fic. 11. SUN-BITTERN. 


The day wears on, and even the cicadas become quiet. 
The sun is overhead and the air full of tropical heat. In the 
shade it is always comfortable, and in the full glare of the sun 
one perspires so freely that the heat is hardly felt. 

As we paddle lazily along, a great Tegu Lizard (Teius 
nigropunctatas) scrambles slowly along the bank; now crawl- 
ing ovet a muddy expanse, now taking to the water to avoid a 


26 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


bushy tangle, folding back his legs and swimming with long 
graceful sweeps of his tail. As we watch him he leaps at, 
several little crabs and catches them before they can escape 
into their holes. 

We eat our luncheon in the shade of a clay bank, the first 
hint of dry land we have seen along the cafio, and here we 
watch the little crocodiles basking in the sun and the crabs 
scuttling over the mud. A bird of iridescent green and 
orange swoops down to our very faces, and hangs swinging 
in a loop of a tiny hana on the face of the bank. The next 
instant it vanishes into the earth, darting into a hole hardly 
larger than the crab-holes around it. We have found the 
home of a Jacamar.* At the end of the short tunnel are 
four round white eggs laid on the bare clay. 

While examining the nest we hear at our very feet the 
terrible night noise — the muffled choking sigh which has 
come to us every night since we entered the mangrove wilder- 
ness. We are standing in our narrow dug-out, which the 
least movement will overturn, and for an instant it is indeed 
a question whether we can control ourselves enough to keep 
it from filling. Now the mystery solves itself as a large 
anaconda (Hunectes murinus) nine or ten feet long, slowly 
winds out from a hole in the bank beneath the surface of © 
the water and slips into the depths of the muddy current. 
Then the tide laps a little lower, and a big bubble of air, 
caught in the entrance of the serpent’s lair, frees itself with 
a sudden gasping sob. When the tide is rising or falling 
over these large openings in the mud, the air escapes from 
time to time with the terrifying sound which has so long 
puzzled us. Our mysterious nocturnal creature is thus 
explained away in the prosaic light of day. 

An hour later as our dug-out rounds a sharp bend in the 
cafio, there comes to our ears a series of rasping cries — 
hoarse and creaking as of unoiled wheels. ‘The glasses show 


27 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 


‘VGNOOVNY NV — AMALISAJL ZAOVONVIN 


AHL 40 NOILAIOS 


8 9 


28 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


a flock of large, brown, fowl-like birds in a clump of bushes 
overhanging the water. ‘Their barred wings and tall, delicate 
crests tell us that they are the bird of all others which we had 
hoped to see and study. We are floating within a hundred 
feet of a flock of Hoatzins'W— the strange reptile-like, living 
fossils which are found only in this part of the world, and 
which are closely related to no other living bird. 


Fic. 13. HOATZINS IN THE BAMBOOS ON THE GUARAPICHE. 


As we draw near, the birds flutter through the foliage as if 
their wings were broken. We find that this is their usual 
mode of progression, and for a most interesting reason. 
Soon after the young Hoatzins are hatched and while yet 
unfledged they are able to leave the nest and climb about the 
branches, and in this they are greatly aided by the use of the 
wings as arms and hands. The three fingers of the wing are 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 29 


each armed with a reptile-like claw, and at the approach of 
danger the birds climb actively about like squirrels or lizards. 

It has usually been thought that when they grow up they 
lose all these reptilian habits and behave as conventional feath- 
ered bipeds should. But we find that while, of course, the 
fingers are deeply hidden beneath the long flight-feathers of 
the wing, yet these very feathers are often used, fingerlike, in 
forcing aside thick vines, the birds thus clambering and push- 
ing their way along. 

It was with the keenest delight of the pioneer and dis- 
coverer that we watched these rare creatures. Although 
they do not nest until July and August, yet we found them in 
the very trees and bushes which held the remains of last year’s 
nests, thus revealing their sedentary life during the rest of 
the year. And day after day and week after week we learned 
to know that they would be found in this or that tree and 
nowhere else; they were veritable feathered sloths. ‘They 
fed chiefly upon leaves, but fish also entered into the bill of 
fare of at least one individual. 

We shot two, one for the skin and the other for the skeleton, 
and we found the plumage in a very worn and ragged con- 
dition, the wing feathers especially so, where the branches and 
leaves had rubbed and worn away the barbs. Throughout 
the noonday heat these birds were always to be found in the 
foliage overhanging the water, ready when disturbed to flop 
and thrash a few yards through the mangroves and bamboos. 

After many days of pure delight, our note-books filled and 
our photographic plates more than half gone, we decided to 
see something of the Venezuelan dry land. We would go on 
and on until we had left the mangroves with all their un- 
peopled mystery behind us, and see what new surprises the 
villages of the Guarauno (War-ah-oo’no) Indians and the 
jungles of the foot-hills would afford. 

At nine o’clock one night, when the stars alone cast a faint 


30 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


weird light over everything, we sent two of the crew ahead 
in the rowboat to keep our bow straight, and then began a 
long night of noiseless drifting with the tide. It was a night 
to remain forever in our memory. The men relieved their 
monotonous towing with strange wailing chants; on each side 
the mangroves slipped past, black and menacing; invisible 
creatures snorted and splashed in sudden terror as we 
rounded each turn; great fireflies burned on the trees and were 
reflected in the water, and to our ears came the roars of the 
four-handed folk, the calls and screams of night birds, the 
metallic clinks of insects, and ever the gasps and chokings 
of the serpents’ burrows — hardly less sinister now that we 
had solved their mystery. 

Throughout all the night we passed up one cafo, down 
another, past miles and miles of black foliage, all alike to us, 
almost indistinguishable in the starlight, yet early next morn- 
ing as we rose to rout the cloud of mosquitoes about our 
head nets, the captain said in his soft Spanish tongue, “‘ The 
mountains of my country should be in sight ahead.” And, 
indeed, an hour later, as the day dawned, we could discern 
the blue haze in the north which marked the high land out. 

Toucans, big Muscovy Ducks * and Snakebirds * flew past 
us; great brown Woodpeckers and flights of Parrakeets swung 
across the cafio; dolphins played around us, but we heeded 
them little, all eager to press on and see the new land. 

So we sat far up in the bow and watched the mountains take 
form and the palms upon them become ever more distinct. 
From aland of mystery untrodden by man, we were soon to 
come upon a bit of land so prized by man that nations had 
almost gone to war over it— La Brea (Bray’ah), the strange 
lake of pitch hidden in the heart of the forest, with its strange 
birds and fish and animals; lying on the borderland between 
the foot-hilis of the northern Andes and the world of man- 
groves which for many days had held us so safely in its heart. 


31 


THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. 


SNIVINOOJ, NVIAAZINGA AHL IO ASMMIIN) ISuIy ‘VI ‘Oy 


CHAPTER: a 
THE LAKE OF PITCH: 


eS eeu ORE we had sailed and paddled through a 

land of mangroves and water, where, with the excep- 
tion of one or two tiny muddy islets in the forest, there was 
no solid ground. One day the last of innumerable turns of 
a narrow cano brought our sloop in sight of real earth — the 
first dry land of eastern Venezuela. A rough wooden wharf 
supporting a narrow-gauge line of rails appeared, and beyond 
rose a steep hill, dotted here and there with little thatched 
huts, each clinging to a niche scooped out of the clay. We 
were at the village of Guanoco (Wah-no’co), the shipping 
point of the pitch lake. A few steps beyond the last hut and 
one was in the primeval forest — so limited is man’s influ- 
ence in this region of rapidly growing plants. 

For five miles the little toy rails zigzagged their uneven way 
through the jungle. On one side was swamp, into which one 
could penetrate but a short distance before encountering the: 
advance-guard of the mangroves, the front of the vast host 
which stretched eastward mile after mile to the sea. West 
of the track the land rose ten or twenty feet in many places, 
but even where level it soon lost its swampy character. At 
the end of the line the strange pitch lake itself appeared 
as a great plain, on the borderland between low swamps and 
the foot-hills of the mountains. This was our tramping- 
ground, and we found it a veritable wonderland of birds and 
beasts and flowers. 

One of the first things which attracted our attention were the 
Orioles or Cassiques *'— great black and yellow beauties with 

32 


SEPESEAKE OF PITCH. 33 


long whitish beaks and an infinitely varied vocabulary. In 
the north our eyes are gladdened by the sight of a single pair 
of Orioles flying about their nest in the elm; here in a single tree 
there were sometimes over one hundred and fifty inhabited 
nests, most of which were two feet or more in length. The 
more we watched these birds the more interesting they 


Fic. 15. COLONY OF 150 CASSIQUES’ NESTS IN ONE TREE. 


became. They showed a real intelligence in the selection of 
a site for their nests. Monkeys, tree-snakes, opossums, and 
other bird-eating creatures were abundant hereabouts, and 
for a colony of these conspicuous birds to conceal their nests 
successfully would be impossible. So their homes are swung 
out in full view of all. But one or two precautions are always 
taken. Either the birds choose a solitary tree which fairly 
overhangs some thatched hut, or else the colony is clustered 


34 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


close about one of the great wasps’ nests which are seen here 
and there high up among the branches of the forest. 

The Indians and native Venezuelans never trouble the 
birds, which have been quick to realize and take advantage 


Fic. 16. NEST AND EGGS OF YELLOW-BACKED CASSIQUE. 
Observe the Extra Shelter Roof. The lower opening was made to show 


the egg chamber. 
of this fact, and weave their nests and care for their young 
almost within arm’s reach of the thatched roofs. No mon- 
key dares venture here, and the mongrel dogs keep off all 
the small nocturnal carnivores. _ | 
But a colony of Cassiques which chooses to live in the 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 35 


jungle itself would have short shrift, were it not for the 
strange communal guardianship of the wasps. ‘These insects 
are usually large and venomous, and one sting would be 
enough to kill a bird; indeed, a severe fever often ensues 
when a man has been stung by half a dozen. So the birds 
must in some way be immune to the attacks of the wasps. 
Perhaps their wonderfully complete armor of feathers, scales, 
and horny beak accounts for this, while their quickness of 
vision and of action enables them to save their eyelids — 
their one unprotected spot. Although the Cassiques cannot 
have learned from experience of the terrible wounds which 
the wasps can inflict, yet they are keenly alive to the advan- 
tages to be derived from close association with them. 

The wasp’s nest is built far out ‘on the tip of the limb of 
some forest tree, and the long pendent homes of the Cassiques 
are placed close to it, sometimies eight or ten on the same 
branch, and others on neighboring limbs, so near that the 
homes of insects and birds rattle against each other when 
the wind blows. 

One such community was placed rather near the ground, 
where we could watch the inhabitants closely. Frequently 
when one or two of the big birds returned to their nests with 
a rush and a headlong plunge into the entrance, the whole 
branch shook violently. Yet the wasps showed no excite- 
ment or alarm; their subdued buzzing did not rise in tone. 
But when I reached up and moved the branch gently down- 
ward, the angry hum which came forth sent me into the under- 
brush in haste. From a safe distance I could see the wasps 
circling about in quick spurts which meant trouble to any 
intruder, while the excited Cassiques squeaked and screamed 
their loudest. Whether the slight motion I gave to the 
branch was unusual enough to arouse the insects, or whether 
they took their cue from the cries and actions of the alarmed 
birds, I cannot say. 


36 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


The nests are beautifully woven, of very tough palm leaf 
shreds and grass stems, in shape like tall vases, bulging 
at the bottom to give room for the eggs and young birds, 
and with an entrance at the side near the top. We found 
still another instance of the unusual ability of these birds 
to adapt themselves to changing conditions. Those nests 
which were already deserted or with young ready to fly had 
simple rounded tops arching over to protect the entrance 


Fic. 17. VENEZUELAN ‘TREE PORCUPINE. 


from the sun; but in the nests which were in process of con- 
struction, now at the beginning of the rainy season in early 
April, there appeared an additional chamber with a dense 
roof of thatch, in which one of the parents, the male at least 
in one case, passed the nights, safe from the torrents of 
sudden rain. 

Another larger species of Cassique,’” dull green in color, 
built solitary nests, three feet or more in length, but seldom 
near the homes of men or wasps. Here and there in the 


THE LEAKE OF PITCH. 37 


jungle some lofty tree raised its huge white bole free of vine 
and liana, and smooth as a marble column, towering far 
above all its fellows; and out on the very tip of one of its 
swaying branches the nest was woven — safe from all tree- 
climbing enemies. The notes of these birds were like deep 
resonant cowbells, ringing through the jungle, clear and 
metallic. 

During our stay in the village of Guanoco we had abundant 
opportunity to observe the relations of a tiny hamlet like 
this to the great world of primeval nature all around. The 
jungle pressed close, instantly filling any neglected corner 
with a tangle of vines and shrubs, ever ready to sweep over 
all and reforest the little clearings about the huts. 

Sloths were rare near the village, as it had long been a 
favorite Sunday amusement to go out and bring in one or 
more of these defenceless creatures for dinner. But tree 
porcupines (Sphingurus prehensilis), with bare, prehensile 
tails and faces like littlke manatees, were common, as were 
those gentle little creatures of the night, kinkajous (Cerco- 
leptes caudivolvulus), or “ couchi-couchis”’ as the Indians 
call them. Catching porcupines and sloths is about as 
exciting sport as picking blackberries; the porcupine being 
too confident in its battery of spines to attempt to escape; 
the sloth relying with pathetic faith on its wonderful resem- 
blance to a bunch of moss or leaves. 

The ‘English Sparrows” of the village were beautiful 
olive-green Palm Tanagers “ and great sulphur-breasted 
Flycatchers * which shrieked Kiss-ka-dee! at you as you 
passed by. The French in Trinidad tell you that the bird 
says Ow’est-ce-qwil-dit? but the Spaniard, true to his poetic 
temperament, says, “No, Senor, el pajaro dice ‘Cristo- 
Jué!’”’ which seemed especially appropriate at this Easter 
season, 

Every day one or two wild Chachalacas’ would fly from 


38 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the jungle to an open space near one of the huts and feed 
fearlessly with the chickens for an hour or longer. 

To our northern minds the most remarkable thing was the 
innumerable variety of all forms of life. Seldom did we find 
many individuals of any one species, but always there was a 
constantly changing panorama. We would make a careful 
list of birds seen near our house, noting certain ones for 


Fic. 18. WILD CHACHALACA NEAR A GUANOCO HUT. 


future study, and the following day scarcely one of these 
would be visible, but in their place birds of strange form and 
colors. The same was true of the insects and the result 
was as bewildering as it was fascinating. Our habits of 
observation had all to be changed. Except when birds were 
actually nesting, we could never be sure of seeing the same 
species twice, although there was never any doubt that each 
day would add many new forms to our lists. 

Though we tramped for miles along the narrow Indian 
trails and spent many days in swamps and dark jungles, yet 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 39 


we were troubled scarcely at all with noxious insects. “‘ Jig- 
gers’’ there were in moderate numbers but one could “col- 
lect’? more in one day in Virginia than in a month here at this 
season. During our entire stay we saw only about three 
or four minute ticks, while mosquitoes were absent, except 
at night. If we dug in rotten logs, we were sure to unearth 
centipedes and scorpions, many of them, —- but otherwise we 


Fic. 19. SCORPION AND ITS YOUNG TAKEN FROM MILADY’s SHOE. 


rarely saw them. Once, indeed, a mother scorpion (Centru- 
rus margaritatus) with half a hundred young ones on her 
back was discovered in a shoe, bringing to mind the old 
nursery rhyme. 

We found that much of the jungle was almost impene- 
trable, and on one of our first excursions we were fortunate 
enough to find a means of making the birds come to us from 
the deeper recesses of the forest. As we left the doorway, a 
silent little shadow fitted into the pommerosa tree in front of 
us, and soon among the glossy leaves came a sound which we 


40 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


had heard day and night, but the author of which had thus 
far evaded us. It is impossible to put into words, but it may 
be imitated by a monotone whistle, of about four notes to the 
second, of A above middle C. ‘The glasses showed a mite of a 
Pygmy Owl glaring at us with wide yellow eyes, and firmly 
clutching a dead bird, half as large as himself. Later, when 
standing at the edge of an impenetrable tangle of thorny 
vines and vainly trying to discover what bird was singing in 
loud, ringing tones within it, we thought of the fierce little 
owl, and concealing ourselves, gave the call of Glaucidium. 
The effect was instantaneous; the song near us ceased, and 
with angry cries a pair of beautiful Black-capped Mocking- 
thrushes '* flew almost overhead. Black-tailed Euphonias ™ 
and Grassfinches followed, Bananaquits '*” whirred about us, 
and within a few minutes thirty or forty birds had testified 
to the hatred in which the little Owl is held. 

A great surprise to our northern eyes was the Yellow Wood- 
pecker,*? not uncommon here, and clad in bright yellow 
plumage from crest to tail. It was very conspicuous in 
flight, but when it alighted, merged with the lichened bark 
and spots of sunlight. One bird was very tame and fre- 
quented a tree close by our window. 

One of our first walks led us through a narrow valley or 
gorge to the westward, shaded by ranks of tall palms and 
with isolated banana and cocoa plants, hinting of native 
Indian clearings long since overwhelmed by the luxuriant 
jungle growth. Wasps and other Hymenoptera outnum- 
bered other insects at this season, and one could have col- 
lected scores of different species in a few hours. A few 
Heliconia butterflies drifted across our path, and now and 
then a giant morpho shot past like a meteor of iridescent blue. 
Other great butterflies (Caligo ilioneus) were iridescent blue 
and brown above, while the under sides of their wings were 
mottled and with a great eye-spot on each of the hind wings, 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. re 


which gives them the name of the owl butterfly. But however 
much, in an insect cabinet, the expanded reverse of the wings 
suggests the face of an owl, the spot, as we observed it in the 
forest, seemed rather to render the insect invisible. These 
great fellows would shoot up toa lichen-covered trunk and 
drop lightly upon it, and unless one’s eyes had followed 


FIc. 20. YELLOW WOODPECKER. 


closely, the butterfly vanished like magic. Creeping up to 
one we secured its picture, the mottlings on its wings merg- 
ing it with the lichens, and its owl-eyes becoming the painted 
facsimiles of darkened knotholes, or of little atoll-like fungus 
rings. 

One is constantly impressed by the abundance and variety 
of these protective adaptations. Instead of one’s eyes be- 


42 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


coming more accustomed and trained in detecting these de- 
ceptions, the puzzles increase, and one becomes suspicious of 
everything. Every few minutes we are halted by a curled 
leaf which resembles some great caterpillar, or by a partly 
decayed fruit which may prove to be a curiously marked 


Fic. 21. Ow. BUTTERFLY ON COCOA BARK. 


beetle. Many of these are such exact counterparts that we 
have to touch them to undeceive ourselves. After seeing some 
bats hung in the shadows between the buttressed bases of 
great trees, we imagine them in every patch of moss or dried 
leaves. 

The resemblance to inanimate objects is never violated and 
often remarkably heightened by the little creatures of fur, 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 43 


feather, scale or armor of chitin. The bats never alight in a 
close compact mass, but each isolated, with its wings partly 
spread, and often extended zrregularly, one webbed hand 
higher or farther out than the other, thus presenting a dull, 
irregular outline, at which we should never have looked 
twice, had not the little beasties become frightened and 
flown. <A butterfly (Peridromia feronia), mottled and pearly 
on the upper side, snaps clicking to a lichened trunk and 
alights head downward with wings flat. Beneath they are 
white and conspicuous. ‘The inverted position allows the 
hinder wings to be pressed flat to the surface of the bark, 
while the slight shadow caused by the prominence of the 
body in front is thus below and invisible. Another, brilliant 
red on the upper side and irregularly marked below, never 
alights, as far as our experience went, except on some 
lichened trunk. In this case however the wings were held 
tightly together, and the insect always in a head downward 
position. ‘The insect took to wing so quickly that only a 
hint of the red was visible. 

We never could tell what new form of protective resem- 
blance would next come under our notice. Here and there 
in the woods we found trees which had fallen in a clear space 
and had torn out their roots in the fall, forming a great bank 
of earth and mould, held together by the network of root 
fibres. Hanging suspended by slender root tendrils were 
many small pellets of earth slowly swaying and disintegrating. 
We found that some of these were not mere accidents of 
inorganic forces, but were the nests of a small mud wasp 
made in a roughly circular form and moulded to one of the 
many rootlets. 

Lizards perhaps more than any other group oe backboned _ 
animals become part and parcel of their surroundings in form 
and color. We sometimes found dull gray and green fellows 
on the trunks of trees or the ends of half rotten logs, which 


AA OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


almost defied the efforts of the eye to disentangle them from 
the lichens and moss amid which they clung. When one of 
these did move it was with such celerity that the eye uncon- 
sciously swept onward, impelled by momentum, and over- 
shot the spot where it stopped. Then another careful search 
was necessary to rediscover 
the reptile. 

This same glade was the 
favorite haunt of two kinds of 
small Manakins, the Gold- 
headed ** and the White- 
breasted." The former was 
a mite of a bird, barely four 
inches in length, jet-black as 
to body and wings, but with 
a cap of gold pulled down 
over his head and ears. If 
his eyes were black and beady 
like those of his near relatives, 
the harmony of his head-dress 
would be disturbed, so Dame 
Nature has sifted the gold 
over his eyes as well, and the 
yellow irides are almost invis- 
ible among the feathers. Such 
coloring renders him part of 
Fic. 22. Lizarp Atert on Trunx bis beloved gorge. If he sits 

OF TREE. in the shade his body vanishes 

and his head is naught but a 

spot of sunshine; if his perch is in sunlight, the tiny, head- 
less body conveys no hint of a living bird. 

His cousin, the White-breasted, is black and white and the 
four outer feathers of the wing are very narrow and curved. 
These are the strings upon which he plays an zolian song 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. AS 


of love, for every time he takes to flight a loud humming sound 
is produced. The females are dull olive in color but easily 
recognizable by their orange feet and legs. Sometimes three 
suitors would buzz and hum together about one of these 
sombre little ladies in the gloom of the gorge. 


Fic. 23. THe SAME LizARD A MOMENT LATER, OBLITERATED BY 
CHANGE OF POSITION. 


The rotten trees and palm stubs were filled with interesting 
insects; big black palm weevils (Khyncophorus palmatum) 
an inch and a half long, and huge brown cockroaches three 
inches from head to wing-tip (Blaberus trapezoideus). With 
a machete we cut open one log, which was like bread in 
consistency, and found two centipedes, three scorpions, one 


46 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


of them a whip scorpion, a huge beetle larva, a small snake, 
“with a faint band about its neck (Homalocranium melano- 
cephalum) and most interesting of all, a Peripatus, 

Perhaps the reader here wonders to himself what a Peripatus 
is, and it is a pity that this most important creature has 
no common name. We may call it a worm-like caterpillar 
or a caterpillar-like worm, for its claim to fame rests upon 
its position as a so-called missing link. We know that in 
long ages past the ancestor of the butterflies, beetles, wasps, 
spiders and crabs was a worm-like creature, primitive in 
structure and in no way hinting of the beautiful organisms 
which were to be evolved in succeeding epochs. Hiding 
away from light, in the warm moisture of decaying wood, the 
little Peripatus has lived on and on, age after age, with little 
apparent change, until we find it to-day combining the simpler 
characters of the lowly worms with those of the vastly higher 
caterpillars. 

The Peripatus which we unearthed, or rather unlogged, 
was of a rich, dark reddish hue. It was caterpillar-like in 
general appearance, but not divided into segments, while the 
number of its very simple feet and its method of progression 
brought to mind the millipedes. The long, slender antennz 
were constantly in motion, changing and extending, feeling 
about and retracting. 

Glancing at the leaf of a low shrub, we saw what we sup- 
posed to be two bits of dried, rolled-up leaf entangled ina 
strand of spider web and being whirled about by the wind. 
When we saw that this motion continued after the breeze had 
died down, we became interested. We discovered that the 
two objects were tineid moths of a dark pearl color, waltz- 
ing about with the most graceful and airy motion imaginable. 
With closed wings they whirled round and round by means 
of their legs alone, and, most remarkably, both going in the 
same direction, although this was frequently changed, the 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 47 


reversal being almost instantaneous and without an instant’s 
loss of the smoothness of the rhythm. Now and then their 
circles overlapped, but at the first danger of collision the 
tiny dervishes both retreated without stopping their dance. 
Presently one flew away, and the other shifted to another leaf 


Fic. 24. NEST AND Eccs oF GREAT BLUE TINAMOU. 


near by, and recommenced his waltz alone. It was a sur- 
prise to find these little winged millers in the réle of graceful 
dancers. The reason of it remained a mystery. 

These incidents are quoted as some among the myriad 
interesting doings of the little folk which we observed in the 
heart of these great jungles. As we walked on, virgin forest 
surrounded us, with great trees centuries old, chained and 
netted together by miles upon miles of lianas. Now and 


48 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


then we entered a clear glade festooned by a maze of ropes 
and cables, with here and there a lofty monkey-ladder lead- 
ing upward by a wavy series of narrow steps. ‘The cicadas 
filled the air with the oriental droning of their song, and a 
big Red-crested Woodpecker * called loudly from a _half- 
rotted, vine-choked tree. From the undergrowth came a 
soft rolling trill, a crescendo of power and sweetness, and 
when our Indian carrier whispered, ‘‘ Gallina del monte,” we 
knew we were listening to the call of a Great Blue Tinamou'— 
one of those strange birds looking like brown, tailless fowls, but 
of so generalized a type that they form in many ways a link 
between the ostrich-like forms and the rest of the bird world. 
The bird which was calling soon became silent, but creeping 
slowly along we were fortunate enough to discover its nest 
on a bit of sunny turf near the end of a log in a partially over- 
grown clearing. All the delights of bird-nesting seemed con- 
summated the moment we caught sight of the two wonderful 
eges before us. ‘The nest was merely a hollow scratched in 
the grass, but the sun was reflected from two shining spheres 
of metallic greenish blue, like two huge turquoises polished 
as by the wheel of a lapidary. Never were such eggs; they 
seemed of hard burnished metal, more akin to the stones 
lying about them than to the organic world, and yet, even as 
we looked, there appeared a tiny fracture, and in a few 
minutes the beak of a Tinamou chick had broken through to 
the outer air. The glistening cradle of stone would soon 
fall apart and give to the tropical world another life — one 
more mote among the millions upon millions about us. 
Now and then we would come across a huge low mound, 
clear of undergrowth, dotted with holes from which well- 
trodden paths led off in every direction. Some of these were 
six inches in width, so that we could easily walk in them. 
A twig poked down the holes and twisted about would come 
up covered with angry ants, great brownish-black fellows 


Tee LAKE, OF PITCH. 49 


with a grip like a bulldog. Even this simile fails, for these 
insects will allow their heads to be pulled off before they 
will let go. 

Everywhere the ants attracted our attention; huge black 
giants (Neoponera commutata), which seemed never to have 
anything to do but parade slowly up and down the trunks of 
trees; and the ever-busy parasol-ants, hustling along in single 
file, waving their green banners and clinging faithfully to 
them while falling down terrific precipices three or four 
inches deep. We dug into their nests and found their fungi 
gardens, one part of which would be freshly planted with 
neat black balls of chewed-up green leaves, while in another 
part the fungus was well grown — a meshwork of gray strands 
whose fruit was ready to be plucked and eaten. 

The hunting-ants (Eczion) surpassed all the others in 
interest. Day after day we would come across their great 
armies, and we spent many hours of keen enjoyment watch- 
ing their advance. We had read of their appearance and 
habits; we had heard them compared to Goths and hordes 
of savages, but no description prepares one for the actual 
sight. We watched in particular one large army which 
carried on its operations only a short distance from our 
house. 

Long before we came within sight of the ants themselves 
their presence would be heralded by the flock of birds which 
kept just in advance, feeding upon the insects which flew 
up from the van of the ant legions. In one such assemblage 
most of the birds were Woodhewers, big, cinnamon-colored, 
creeper-like birds which hitched up the tree trunks and now 
and then swooped down to the ground, snatched an insect 
and swung back to the trunk. This flock of birds showed 
other methods of feeding; Hummingbirds appeared from 
nowhere, dashed down to a tiny insect and vanished into 
space; Anis *° blundered along, looking as if their wings and 


50 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


tails were too loosely attached for use; Ant-birds crept low 
through the bushes and carried their prey to a twig to eat; 
two American Redstarts **? and several Tyrant Flycatchers 
caught their prey by a sudden dart and a snap of the beak. 
One species in particular, the Streaked Flycatcher,” was 
always attendant on the ants and always fearless, watching 
us and yet never missing a chance to snap up a passing 
insect. 


FIG. 25. WOODHEWER CLINGING TO THE TRUNK OF A TREE. 


As we drew nearer, a strange rustling sound reached our 
ears, like the regular pattering of raindrops, and before we 
knew it we were standing in the midst of thousands of active 
ants, whose rushing and scrambling about over the dead 
leaves caused the loud rustling. In a few seconds twenty 
or thirty ants had climbed upon and above our shoes, and 
their sharp, nipping bites sent us in haste to the flanks of the 
army, where we freed ourselves from the fierce creatures. 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 51 


These ants are not large, varying from a fifth to a third of 
an inch in length, dark in color, with lighter red abdomens. 

Until one becomes accustomed to these scenes of carnage 
the sight is really terrible, especially when one lies down 
flat and takes an ant’s-eye view of the field of battle. Yet 
such is the fierceness and savage fury on one side and hopeless 
terror or frantic efforts to escape on the part of the victims 
that it needs but little imagination to stir deeply one’s sym- 
pathies. 


Fic. 26. STREAKED FLYCATCHER. 


In place of the steady advance of a well-drilled army, pre- 
senting a solid front of serried ranks, the formation of the 
hunting-ants may be compared to an innumerable host of 
cavalry scouts who quarter the ground in every direction, 
the whole army slowly advancing and including new terri- 
tory in the scene of operations. Frequent flurries or louder 
rustlings follow the discovery and the subsequent terrible 
struggle of some quarry of noble size —a huge beetle or 
mighty lizard. 


UNIVERSITY OF 
ILLINOIS LIBRARY 
AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 


52 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


One fact impressed us from the first: every creature aroused 
by the ants seemed to know instinctively of the awful danger. 
Whether through odor or sight or sound, the alarm always 
carried its full meaning. Insects which ordinarily would es- 
cape the collecting net by a single quick motion, here dashed 
away with such terror that they often flew against our clothes 
or a tree, and were hurled to the ground: iigarde sem 
shelter under our shoes or shot off like streaks of light for 
many yards. Our presence and that of the predatory birds 
was disregarded in the efforts to avoid the danger which 
generations of inherited experience had made the most vivid 
in life. 

Insects which usually feigned death as a means of escape, 
when disturbed by these ants used all the motor organs 
given them by nature to flee from the dreaded foe. Escape 
seemed to be the result of accident with all wingless creatures, 
even with those possessing good eyesight, for the first blind 
terrified rush as often carried them to certain death in the 
thickest of the host as it did to safety in the van or on one 
side of the ant army. Even wings were not a surety of 
escape. Twice I saw moths arise heavily from their hiding- 
places with a half-dozen of the little fiends clinging to their 
legs and wings. One was snapped up, ants and all, by a 
big Flycatcher, and the other fell among the quartermaster’s 
brigade in the rear, where every ant within reach dropped his 
load and hurled himself upon the newcomer. 

Here and there one might observe good-sized balls of ants 
rolling about, and in the centre would be some hard-cased 
beetle or other insect, who gave up only after killing and 
maiming a score of his assailants. 

We dropped five big black ants into the midst of the 
marauders, and witnessed a combat as thrilling as the con- 
test between the Greeks and Persians. Four of the insects 
alighted on a small rounded stone over which three hunting- 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 53 


ants were scurrying. Without hesitation the black giants 
fell upon the brown warriors and tore them limb from limb, 
with the loss of only half aleg. This is not avery serious hand- 
icap, when one has five and a half robust limbs left! The 
fifth big fellow dropped upon a mass of ants piled like foot- 
ball-players upon a struggling scorpion, whose sting was 
lashing the air in vain. The big ant started another ripple 
upon this pool of death, which soon smoothed away, leaving 
no recognizable trace of him. But the quartet of big-jawed 
fellows on their rock citadel fought successfully and well. No 
ant which crept to the top ever lived to return for help. The 
four flew at him like wolves and bit him to death. Soon a 
ring of hunting-ants formed around the stone, all motionless 
except for a frantic twiddling of antenne. They were appar- 
ently excited by the smell of the blood of their dead fellows, 
and only rarely did one venture now and then to scale the 
summit. When we left, two hours afterward, the army had 
passed, and left the stone and its four doughty defenders, who 
showed no immediate intention of leaving their fortress. 

The ground over which the hunting-ants passed was 
absolutely bare of life, and, contrary to the rule in human 
armies, it was among the camp-followers and foragers that 
the most perfect discipline reigned. In the rear of the main 
army were lines upon lines of ants laden with the spoils: 
legs, bodies, and heads of insects and spiders, bits of scaly 
skin of lizard or turtle, joints of centipedes and scorpions, 
and here and there a piece of ragged but gaudy butterfly- 
wing borne aloft like the captured standard of some opposing 
force. 

We followed three lines of supply-carriers and found that 
they converged on some sheltered hollow in a tree or under a 
boulder or root. Here were massed countless hordes of ants 
clinging together like a swarm of bees. In the centre were 
the queen, eggs, and young of these nomadic savages, resting 


54 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


thus temporarily until the far-distant scouts should report 
another shelter, when the whole community would shift to 
the new home, farther along on the line of march. 

The army in which we were especially interested seemed 
to be carrying on their hunting in a rough circle about the 
temporary home, and perhaps this is a common habit. Cer- 
tain ants apparently serve some function of direction or 
means of communication, for they keep to one place for a 
half hour at a time and twiddle their antenne with every ant 
which approaches. 

It was when the hunting-ants discovered the nests of other 
species of ants that warfare, true to its name, was waged. 
One could watch as from a balloon, mimic Waterloos and 
Gettysburgs, and sad to relate, in the case of inoffensive 
species, plunder, murder, and abduction by the wholesale. 
After studying the ways of these merciless creatures, we could 
seldom walk through the quiet, sunlit jungle, with blossoming 
orchids everywhere overhead and the songs of birds and 
pleasant hum of insects in our ears, without thinking of the 
tragedies without number ever going on around us. 

Used as we were only to the small lightning bugs of our 
northern summer nights, the big luminous elater beetles (Pyro-~\ 
phorus sp.) were ever of interest. The two thoracic lights 
are placed on the outer posterior edges and give out a pale 
greenish glow of great intensity. We could easily see to read 
and write by their light, and by placing a half dozen of these 
insects in a glass we could use them instead of our electric 
flash. 

When we examined them carefully we were surprised to 
find that there was another area of illumination on the ab- 
domen, below and just behind the insertion of the third pair 
of legs. When fully illuminated this area was brilliant and 
of a figure « shape. The light however was radically dif- 
ferent from that of the thorax, being yellowish, and candle- 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 55 


like, giving an illusory impression of an opening from the 
incandescent interior of the insect. When the insect settles 
to rest the only visible illumination is from the pair of 
thoracic lights, but in flight the abdominal searchlight comes 
into play, burning brightly with a strong yellowish glare quite 
different from the green thoracic lights. 

As we lay at night half asleep we would sometimes be 
awakened by the droning of one or two big elaters, whose 
intermittent flashes would illumine the whole room. More 
than once we had to capture the intruders with the butterfly 
net and banish them before we could get any sleep. 

We chloroformed two of these luminous beetles and pinned 
them in an insect box. Two evenings afterward when we 
had occasion to add more insects, the box was opened and to 
our surprise the little lanterns were still aglow and hardly 
less brilliant than when the insects were alive. They had 
been dead forty-eight hours and yet their light still shone 
ghostly white, lighting up the other insects in the box. 

One evening we found a tiny wire worm, the larva of some 
small species of elater, which was highly phosphorescent. 
Although only about one-half of an inch in length, the whole 
head, the posterior segment and a spot on the side of each of 
the others was bright. Watched as it moved smoothly and 
rapidly along, it reminded us of a ship passing at a distance 
at night with the lights streaming from the port-holes. 

Our trips to the pitch lake on the early morning engine 
will never be forgotten. A warning toot from the diminutive 
whistle hurries us through our breakfast, and we hasten to the 
track and see our cameras and guns loaded on one of the 
little square wooden ‘“‘empties.’’ We mount the wood-filled 
tender of the engine, which with many complaining creaks 
and jolts get under way, backing slowly around the curve 
which hides the last sign of civilization and buries us in the 
jungle. 


56 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


For nearly twenty years these little toy engines have bustled 
and elbowed their way over the snaky rails, until the jungle 
and its people have come to look upon this narrow winding 
steel path as part of the general order of things. The under- 
brush creeps close, and only the constant whipping of the 
engines and cars beats down the growth between the rails. 


Fic. 27. THE JUNGLE RAILROAD. 


As we start, the last bats of night dash into the dark 
jungle, and their diurnal prototypes, a flock of graceful Palm 
Swifts,’” swoop about overhead. ‘To our ears there comes 
the finalé of the morning chorus of distant red howlers and 
the first deep-toned bellings of the giant Cassiques. 

All along the line, beasts and birds show their lack of fear 
of the rumbling cars. A party of chattering little monkeys 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 57 


sit and gibber at us and rub their dew-drenched fur. Their 
parents and great-grandparents had found nothing to fear 
in this strange thing which, five times each day, crawls back 
and forth on its narrow trail, and why should they do more 
than look and wonder? As we come in sight of the muddy 
banks of the little river, a great Parrot shrieks in derision at 


Fic. 28. SprIpER LILIES NEAR PitcH LAKE. 


us from the top of a dead stub by the track, executing slow 
somersaults for our benefit. Instinctively we look for a 
chain on its leg and a food cup near by! A splash draws 
our eyes downward, and from a maelstrom of muddy water 
shoots a villainous sting ray. A school of little staring four- 
eyes skips over the water, and near the swampy, farther 
bank, a sprawling half-grown crocodile watches us — as 
quiet as a stranded log. 


58 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


The air blows cool and damp on our faces, and we long 
for the keen’ power of scent of a dog. Even to our dull 
nostrils every turn of the road is full of interest. A swamp, 
thickly starred with dainty spider-lilies, comes into view, 
and we inhale draughts of sweetest incense; Easter Sunday 
is at hand, and the very wilderness reminds us of it. 

With every breath of air the great palm leaves flick myriads 
of drops to the underbrush below, with a sound as of heavy 
rain. ‘The trunks are black and soaked, and there is not a 
dry frond for miles. A sudden curve brings another loop 
of the river into view, with a foreground of scuttling crabs 
and mangrove seedlings. Here a wave of coarse, salty, 
marsh smell fills our lungs — not stagnant, but redolent of 
the distant sea; the smell that makes one’s blood leap. The 
next quarter-mile is covered with lilies again. From their 
perfume we enter a zone of recently cut grass — and the 
incense brings to mind northern hay-fields and the sweet- 
grass baskets of the Indians. What new pains and pleasures 
would be ours could we possess the power of scent of some 
of the “lower” animals! 

Temperate succeed tropical vistas; we see what at first. 
appears to be a grove of young chestnuts rising from rhodo- 
dendrons and guinea-grass. A Spotted Sandpiper” heightens 
the illusion, and the picture is complete when a familiar milk- 
weed butterfly floats by and alights on a red and yellow 
tansy. But just then a Macaw shrieks from anear-by tree — 
the road-bed turns and reveals a tangle of palms and scarlet 
heliconias —a monkey climbs up a leaf large enough to 
shelter half a hundred of his kind. Strange palm fruits come 
into view, some like enormous clusters or bunches of grapes — 
each fruit as large as an orange; or again a huge feathery, 
dependent frond of dust-brown blossom and fruit protected 
by an overhanging spathe like a huge umbrella. 

The jungle never gives up the struggle against the invading 


ao 


THE PEAKE OF PITCH. 


‘HOLIg 40 AAV] FHL —vaig vw] ‘6c ‘og 


60 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


rails. Beneath the cars the constant friction only dwarfs 
the growth, and we find here miniature plants blooming, 
fruiting, and scattering seed; plants which elsewhere reach a 
height of five or six feet. It is an interesting case of quick 
adaptation to unfavorable conditions. 

The vegetation presses on every inch of the track, striving 
ever to close up the long scar through the heart of the forest, 
and only by systematic cutting is the way kept open. The 
advance of the jungle host is most interesting. ‘Thirty feet 
from the rails the growth is primeval, a dense mass of entan- 
gled and interlaced vines, shrubs, palms, and giant trees, 
the boles of the latter shooting up and up through the mass 
and bursting into bloom high overhead. Nearer the track 
we find a phalanx of green banners and the wonderfully 
brilliant red and yellow flower stalks of the quick-growing 
heliconias. In front are the rough scouts, the real advance- 
guard of strong, thorny vines growing in close entanglement 
— a living chevaux-de-frise, inconspicuous and yet offering 
the greatest resistance. Under this shelter the larger but 
slower-growing components of the jungle take root and 
gather vigor, until, if not cut out with the hardest labor, 
they soon rear their heads from their nursery of vines and 
brambles, and the shining rails vanish from view. 

All the creatures of the forest cross and recross the track 
freely, even in front of an approaching train. Water-fowl, 
Sun-bitterns ** and the weird-voiced Trumpeters * walk up 
and down, and flocks of Seedeaters '’ drift here and there, 
gleaning seed from between the rails. ‘The Trumpeters were 
a great surprise to us, as this is the first instance of their 
being found north of the Orinoco River. One day we see 
the leaves part, and a long, low-shouldered reddish form 
slouches across before us, without even a glance at us, and 
we know it for the first South American puma (felis 
concolor) which we have seen. Another ‘red lion,” as 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 61 


the natives called it, with two cubs, was seen not long 
before. 

Only the sloth is barred. He comes close to the endless 
swath; he wanders from tree to tree up and down, peering dully 
out across the track, but he cannot cross. The twenty-foot 
treeless embankment is as impregnable to him as a sheer 
wall of rock. With a weird cry he turns back and starts in 
another direction through the branches. 


gets orien: 5." ee nice “e 


ee ed, 


Fic. 30. THE FATAL ‘‘ MOTHER OF THE LAKE.” 


We reach the lake long before the dew is dried and before 
the freshness of the dawn is dissipated. Hurrying over the 
planks and the temporary rails laid for the workman’s hand- 
cars, we push on a half-mile or more to the southward, where 
nothing hints of man’s proximity. To the north and west 
are irregular peaks running off into a blue and misty range — 
the foot-hills of the Spanish Main. ‘To the south the high 
woods are close to us and tower high overhead, but even 
with the eye of yonder lofty, soaring Vulture we could see no 


62 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


mountains in that direction — nothing but flat, green miles 
of mangroves, stretching to the horizon over the immense 
delta of the Orinoco. ‘The pitch lake itself is surrounded on 
all sides by dense forests, the front ranks of which are made 
up of the marvellously tall and graceful moriche palms. 
There is one oasis in this pitchy expanse — Parrot Island it 


Fic. 31. WHITE-HEADED CHIMACHIMA HAWK AND ETA PALM. 


may be called. To this shelter, guarded on all sides by soft, 
quaking pitch, Amazon Parrots come at dusk by hundreds, 
roosting there until the next morning. 

Near the northern edge is the ‘‘mother of the lake,” just 
above the deep-hidden source of supply, where the pitch is 
always soft, and where no vegetation grows. It is a veritable 
pool of death, and nothing can enter it and live. The lizards 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 63 


and heavy-bodied insects which scamper over the rim are 
often clogged and drawn down to death. A jaguar, leaping 
after a Jacana, slipped in shortly before we came and made 
a terrible fight for life. Half blinded, its struggles carried 
it only farther outward, but fortunately the end came mer- 
cifully soon. 

All the rest of the lake is a varied expanse of black pitch 


Fic. 32. AMAZON PARROT Roost, PITCH LAKE. 


bubbles, short grass, clumps of fern and sedge, with occasional 
isolated palms. Flowers of many kinds and colors spring 
from the heart of the raw pitch itself. Jacanas * rise before 
us with loud cries and flashing wings of gold. One may 
walk over the lake at will, morning and evening, but in the 
heat of midday, in many places, one’s shoes sink quickly 
unless one keeps constantly on the move. 

White is not a very common color in nature, and yet here, 
in striking contrast with the inky blackness of the pitch, most 
of the birds show large patches of this color. In the dis- 


64 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


tance are always to be seen Snowy Egrets * and immature 
Blue Herons “* — spots of purest white, while near at hand, 
absurdly tame, a big hawk forever soars slowly about or 


Fic. 33. THE Home oF THE AMAZON PARROT IN THE MIDDLE OF 
PitcH LAKE. 


perches on some great frond of a tall palm. It is a White- 
headed Chimachima Hawk * with plumage of white, save for 
back, wings, and tail. 

The two most abundant small birds are chiefly white in 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 65 


color. Both are Flycatchers, one with white head and neck 
— White-headed Marsh Flycatcher * — perching in the reeds 
and making fierce sallies after passing insects, while even 
more beautiful and conspicuous are the little terrestrial 
Flycatchers — White-shouldered Ground Flycatchers” or 
“Cotton Birds’? — which scurry along the ground over 


AMAZON PARROT AT ENTRANCE OF NEST. 
Fic. 34. FIFTEEN FEET AWAY. Fic. 35. TEN FEET AWAY. 


pitch and fallen logs. Their tails continually wag from side 
to side, and they come within a few feet of us, uttering low 
inquiring notes: pit! pit! They too are clad in white, except 
for back, nape, wings, and tail. 

We follow one about, watching it through the ground- 
glass of the camera, when we blunder into a thicket of dry, 


66 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


crackling twigs. A sudden rustling sound draws our atten- 
tion, and we look up and find ourselves within a few feet of a 
dry palm stub. Around the roughened stringy bark peers a 
green head with wide, yellow eyes, and we stiffen into 
immobility. The position is anything but comfortable; 
thorns are scratching us, flies are tickling our faces, but we 


Fic. 36. AMAZON PARROT ABOUT TO TAKE FLIGHT. 


dare not move. After five minutes, which seem hours, the 
big Yellow-fronted Amazon Parrot * withdraws, and we hear 
a scuttling within the stub. Silently and with the greatest 
caution we step backward, and after a rest we arrange our 
plan of attack. 

These birds usually nest in hollows in the tops of the tallest, 
most inaccessible trees, and this is a golden opportunity 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 67 


—one in a lifetime—for a photograph of a Parrot at 
home. 

The entrance is rectangular, about three by six inches, and 
some five feet above the ground. Painfully I pick my way 
to the side of the stub, and bracing myself, focus on that spot 


Fic. 37. EGGS AND YOUNG OF AMAZON PARROT IN THE NEST. 


of black on the trunk. Then Milady rustles the weeds in the 
rear of the stub. Again a rustling, and on the ground-glass of 
my Graflex flashes the green head. Snap! I have her! and 
with the slowest of motions I change plates. While she is 
engrossed with the disturber in the rear I advance a step and 
get another picture. Then screwing up my speed-button, I 
push slowly forward, and just as she is about to hurl herself 


68 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


from the stub I secure a third photograph. Off she goes to 
the nearest palms, shrieking at the top of her lungs, and is 
joined by her mate. 

We cut a hole in the trunk near the ground, and there find 
the nest of the parrot. Three white eggs, one of which is 
pipped, and a young bird just hatched reward us, all resting 
on a bed of chips. The diminutive polly is scantily clothed 
with white down, and while in the shade lies motionless. 
When a ray of warm sunlight strikes it the little fellow be- 
comes uneasy and crawls and tumbles about until it escapes 
from the unwelcome heat. During its activity it keeps up a 
continuous, low, raucous cry like the mew of a catbird. Far 
out on the expanse of black pitch — six feet in the depth of 
this dark cavity! — this little squawking mite surely had a 
strange babyhood to fit it for its future life in the sunlight 
among the palms. 

It was the Yellow-fronted Amazon Parrot,’ a common 
species with dealers everywhere, but we shall never see 
one in a cage, uttering inane requests for crackers, without 
thinking of the interesting family we discovered at the pitch 
lake. | 

We found strange fish in the pools of water scattered over 
the lake. Some must have wriggled their way over dry land 
for some distance to get there. ‘There were round, sunfish- 
like fellows (Aequidens) and others, long and slender, with 
wicked-looking teeth (Hoplias malabaricus). Most curious 
of all were the Loricates or armored catfish, with a double 
row of large overlapping scales enclosing their body from 
head to tail. Like the Hoatzins among the birds, these fish 
are strange relics of the past, preserved almost unchanged 
from the ancient fossil Devonian forms. 

Days passed like hours in this wonderland, and the 
time for returning to civilization came all too soon. The 
strange living beings which filled jungle and air and water, 


THE LAKE OF PITCH. 69 


FISH FROM THE POOLS IN PITCH LAKE. 


Fic. 38. Aeguidens sp. 


Fic. 39. Hoplias malabaricus. 


70 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


made us long for the leisure of months instead of weeks, 
in which to study all the infinite variety of life which 
surrounded us. 

Our last view of Venezuela was like the first — a panorama 
of silent, majestic green walls, guarding a stream of brilliant 
copper; every one of the untold myriads of beating hearts 
beyond the walls resting silent in the noonday heat, waiting 
for the coolness of evening to awaken them to activity. To 
some it would bring song and happiness with nest and mate, 
to some combat, to others death. 


CHAPTER IT. 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 
(By Mary Blair Beebe.) 


HE doings of the creatures in fur, feathers and scales 

kept us keenly interested from morning to night, yet in 
' our wilderness search there were many unnatural history 
experiences —some disagreeable, others thrilling —but all so 
wholly delightful in their charm of strangeness to the woman 
who enjoyed them that the picture of our wilderness seems 
incomplete without them. 

Life on board a Venezuelan sloop is quite unlike any other 
experience in the world. Neither the woman who sits under 
the awning of a luxurious yacht nor her more adventurous 
sister who sails her own catboat over turbulent waters can 
form any idea of the daily life aboard such a craft. 

The night we set forth in our tiny sloop from the Island of 
Trinidad, headed for an unexplored part of the Orinoco 
delta, it was hard to realize that we were at last bound for 
South America, the land of our dreams. As you know we 
were, for the present, owners of a sloop flying the Vene- 
zuelan flag and manned by five men, of whom only the 
Captain knew a word of English. The charm of exploration 
and adventure laid a spell upon us both — El Seftor Natu- 
ralista and me —and we watched in silence the sunset sky 
and the dim receding shores of Trinidad. 

But there was a certain stern reality about that first night 
aboard the “ Josefa Jacinta” that soon broke in upon our 
reveries. When we descended to the tiny cabin to unpack, 

jé 


72 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the sloop had begun to pitch heavily and we set ourselves to 
solve the problems of unstable equilibrium, which constantly 
shifting angles of 30° to 40° presented in both floor and walls. 
By courtesy we called our domicile a cabin, and we found 
that it would hold two people —at a pinch! 

We unearthed our unused pneumatic mattresses and 
rigged up our gilded foot pump. For fifteen minutes W 


Fic. 40. OuR SLOOP AT GUANOCO. 


worked, then the mate was called and took a hand. Were we 
on a sinking ship and manning the pumps for our lives, 
greater exertions could not have been made, and the reward 
was a thin film of air within the rubber bed. ‘Then we un- 
screwed the decorative but useless contrivance, and W. 
began to blow. This proved effective, and in a few minutes 
we had placed the soft, air-filled cushions in our respective 
bunks. We dubbed these bunks catacombs at once, for the 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 73 


tiny niches into which we later crept were more like the 
vaults of a tomb than aught else. 

I doubt if either of us will ever forget that first night. Be- 
neath the flooring and behind the planked sides of the vessel 
was a mysterious underworld, densely populated by rats of 
most sportive disposition. How they managed to live there 
we never discovered, for we neither caught sight of one 
throughout the voyage, nor were we ever troubled by raids on 
biscuits or other edibles. 

There seemed to be some kind of a running track extending 
around the hidden depths of the sloop. A race would start 
near the stern, the contestants tearing around W ’s bunk; 
then the foottalls would die out toward the bow to become 
audible almost at once on my side —a medley of sound indi- 
cating a mob of invisible rushing creatures, galloping down 


a mysterious homestretch. For some time we expected the 
goal of each race to be some part of ourselves or our luggage, 
but the “heat” would invariably end on the under side of the 
partition within a few inches of my ear, and then would fol- 
low a general mélée and fight, punctuated with shrill squeaks 
and squeals and vicious blows and sounds of tumbling, rolling 
bodies. Were we in the mood we might have learned much 
of rat vocabulary. But we did not then know that these 
strenuous rodents never penetrated to the upper portions of 
the sloop and this uncertainty kept alive our interest in their 
manceuvers throughout the night. 

Silence was unknown during this first night, and while the 
rats were resting, other things occupied our minds and kept 
away ennui —and sleep. The gurgle and splash of bilge 
water was a steady accompaniment of the pitch and toss of the 
sloop, while now and then a sinister trickling came to our ears. 
We called up to the captain and inquired about it, and were 
assured that it was “only a leak!’’ He had looked for it many 
times, but could not locate it. This gave us food for thought, 


74. OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


besides adding decidedly to the slowness of the ticking of the 
watch marking the passage of the hours of darkness. I lay 
in my berth as long as I could endure it; dreaming now and 
then of being buried alive, then rising with a start and striking 
my head against the coffin lid of my catacomb. At last I 
abandoned it for the floor of the cabin, sloping and under 
five feet in total length though it was. I found it was better 
to be huddled in a forlorn little bundle on the floor than in 
that hole which by no stretch of the imagination could be 
called a berth. 

Overhead the crew worked fitfully all night long. I could 
move the hatch curtain, look up and see the sturdy old 
Captain with his hand on the rudder — a picture which was 
to become familiar to us through many nights. What a 
picturesque old figure he was — rugged and stern, yet as 
gentle and courteous as any gentleman of the old school — 
and bearing his three-score and eight years with wonderful 
vigor. Now and then his deep voice would rise above the 
roar of wind and waves in hoarse commands in Spanish to 
the crew. Then he would push the rudder hard up, the 
boom would swing over with a jerk which made the whole 
sloop tremble and a wave would wash over the deck and 
send a trickle of cold drops down upon my face. Smothered 
exclamations from the crew and the sound of their bare feet 
splashing along the deck would end the audible part of the 
manoeuvre. Then I would shift to meet the new angle of the 
floor and wait for the next race of the rats. 

Now and then the Captain would reach behind the hatch 
curtain for his watch and examine its dripping face by the 
light of the candle in the compass box. ‘‘ Faltan las cinco 4 
la una,” he would mutter, and I knew that midnight had 
passed and that somewhere in our wake, morning was on its 
way to end this night of nights. The tempest increased and 
tossed our sloop like a flying leaf. Sometimes it seemed as 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 75 


if we never would right ourselves after heeling far over into 
the depths. But the calm face of our helmsman dispelled 
all uneasiness, and I lay staring into the darkness, feeling 
myself the veriest atom amid this fierce tumult. 

To this moment I cannot tell how long it took us to get from 
Trinidad to Venezuela across that awful Gulf of Paria. To 
me it seemed an endless space of time — day succeeding 
night—with choppy seas, ominous noises in the pitching cabin, 
hot sleepy hours on deck in the shade of the sail, with the great 
green waves forever rolling after and breaking partly over us. 
By the Captain’s reckoning, however, it was the noon of only 
the second day which revealed the distant shore, and soon we 
forgot all the discomforts of the past hours in the wonderful 
beauty of the scene before us — the still, brassy waters and 
the rich green mangroves. 

Entering the wide Cafio San Juan we dropped anchor in 
the lee of a solitary guard ship, a poor derelict, a rusty and 
worn-out freighter, whose last days were to be spent here in 
the calm waters at the edge of the mangrove forest. Our 
little sloop was soon over-run with young custom-house 
officials frora the guard ship, curious but courteous, and far 
more appreciative of the stiff rounds of rum which our Cap- 
tain willingly served to them under our direction, than of 
our gilt-sealed letters of introduction. 

If we would but take their photographs on board the “‘ Pon- 
ton,” they would row us close along the shore while we waited 
for the “ fulling tide,’’ as the Captain called it. Of course we 
agreed. Shouldering their rusty muskets they stood in a row 
to be photographed, — young inexperienced boys, whose 
idle days on the derelict were spent in drinking, smoking 
cigarettes and lying in hammocks playing the mandolin, 
watching for the rare sloop or schooner which might enter 
Venezuela by this desolate and unfrequented cafno. 

We promised to send them the pictures; but Captain Trux- 


76 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


illo said afterwards with a sad shake of his head that they 
would have lost their positions long before the pictures could 
reach them. No one ever stayed long; there was always 
someone to carry reports to Castro of treachery and plotting, 
and there would be new faces on the ‘‘ Pontén,”’ to stay a little 
while and then to disappear like their predecessors. 


Fic. 41. VENEZUELAN SOLDIERS ON THE “ PONTON’”’ GUARD SHIP. 


Now for many days the sloop was our home, and the innu- 
merable gleaming canos of the delta our highways. By day 
we explored the mangroves in our curzara or dug-out, and by 
night we slept the dreamless sleep of healthful outdoor life, 
safe from the persecution of the humming Anopheles out- 
side our netting on the after deck. When midday heat or 
sudden rain drove the wild creatures from our view I 
studied our motley crew and found them a _never-failing 
source of entertainment. 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 77 


The tally of the crew must begin with Filo, the mate, a 
huge black creole, speaking Spanish besides his own strange 
vernacular; then there were two sailors from the Island of 
Margarita, and Antonio, cook by profession, admitting some 
Dutch blood, but of unknown extraction and decidedly un- 
certain disposition. The cook on board a Venezuelan craft 
is always given the respectful title of Maestro (Maz’stro), so 
Maestro he always was to us. Maestro as an individual was 
an interesting psychological study. Although he probably 
never heard of such a thing asa labor union, yet he was the 
embodied spirit of one. He declared, in terms that left no 
possibility of misunderstanding, that he was cook, not sailor, 
and that he would do nothing but cook. He would cook 
cheerfully over a stove that smoked like Dante’s Inferno, 
but when called upon in an emergency to help hoist a sail, 
he would fly into a violent torrent of angry Spanish. Later 
when the temper had spent itself he would often go and do 
what was asked of him. I have seen many high tempers, 
but never one that quite equalled Maestro’s. ‘There were 
times when he would draw his huge cutlass or machete on the 
Captain. For along time these were all false alarms, but at 
last Maestro threatened once too often and so seriously that 
he was discharged on the spot, and left marooned in a little 
Indian village with no means of returning to Trinidad. But 
this was at the end of our voyage. 

Maestro in his patched and faded shirt, with sleeves rolled 
to the elbow, still more patched trousers rolled to the knee, 
bare as to feet, a crownless hat on one side of his head, an 
ancient and odoriferous pipe hanging from his mouth, a big 
machete at his side, in the capacity of cook would make the 
most shiftless housekeeper gasp with horror. I often won- 
dered why he so persistently declared himself cocinero, not 
marinero, for he could hardly have been a greater failure in any 
calling than he was in that of chef. Among the most valued 


78 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


of my memories are some mental pictures of Maestro, which, 
while I live, I can never manage to forget. 

I often shut my eyes and see him with streaming eyes 
stirring some fearful concoction over the little stove; or again 
on his knees mixing dough for the leaden dumplings to be 
boiled in the pig-tail stew which appeared at every meal. We 
so often wished we had brought graham flour. White flour 
does show the dirt so! Still another picture is Maestro 


Fic. 42 CAPTAIN TRUXILLO PADDLING US UP THE GUARAPICHE 
Past CANO COLORADO. 


washing the table-cloth. This was a piece of oilcloth, origi- 
nally white, and Maestro’s method of washing it was to spread 
it on the deck, pour water over it, dance upon it in his bare 
feet, to the accompaniment of some weird chant, and finally 
hang it on the rail to dry! No doubt after this proceeding he 
felt as self satisfied as the most ‘Pompeu and well-trained 
English butler. 

In justice, I must say that Maestro did make one or two 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 79 


edible dishes; he could boil the native vegetables, yam, 
tania and kuch-kuch and he made very good cornmeal mush. 
Then after a long, happy day on the cafios we were always 
hungry, and happiness and honest hunger overlook a multi- 
tude of sins. Besides, whatever was lacking in Maestro’s bill 
of fare was compensated by the dried soups, cocoa, crackers 
and preserves from our own stores. So we managed one way 
or another to keep the wolf from the door, or perhaps more 
appropriately I should say, the crocodile from the com- 
panionway. 

As in two weeks the crew had consumed provisions planned 
by the Captain to last a month, the Captain purchased a hun- 
dred pounds of beef from a dug-out full of Indians which 
passed us one day on the river. ‘This Maestro salted plenti- 
fully and then hung up in the sun to cure. Long strips of it 
were suspended from the rigging, from the boom, and over the 
railing, and whole entomological collections buzzed noisily 
about them. For a few days we felt as though we were 
living in a butcher’s shop; and a butcher’s shop in a 
tropical climate is a thing to be avoided. At first we were 
inclined to resent this impromptu meat market. It was 
not only disagreeable but it was in the way. Then came 
the thought —suppose it were fish; and we were so grate- 
ful to be spared that, that we cheerfully submitted to a sloop 
draped with strips of meat, as a house is festooned with smilax 
at Christmas. Aslong as the larder was low the Captain had 
known no peace of mind for fear his crew would desert us 
and the sloop. So the purchase of such a delicacy as meat 
was a successful piece of strategy. 

With all their faults, there is among the Venezuelans, as 
among the Mexicans, a certain chivalry toward women; and 
so I never felt the least alarm at being left alone on the 
sloop with the crew, while the Captain and my husband went 
off up the river. ‘The great dusky Creole mate would put my 


80 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


stool in a shady spot, and, figuratively, lay himself at my feet 
to serve me, and Maestro—even pugnacious Maestro — 
would weave wonderful baskets for me of the roots of the man- 
grove; baskets in nests of twelve, each fitting snugly within 
the other and all gayly dyed with the Venezuelan colors, the 


Fic. 43. SUNSET IN THE MANGROVE WILDERNESS. 


pigments being extracted from the leaves or stems of unknown 
wild plants. 

The time passed all too quickly with each day spent on the 
Guarapiche river — a gleaming stage, with a setting of green 
trees, brilliant flowers and fragrant orchids, and an ever- 
changing plot with ever-changing actors. Of them all, man 
was the least important. There were populous villages of 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 8I 


Hoatzins and great wandering tribes of Scarlet Ibises and 
Plovers; Herons, much occupied with their unsocial and 
taciturn calling as fishermen, stood silent and solitary in 
secluded pools. With all this wild life the river teemed. It 
was only with the rising and falling of the tide that man 
entered upon the scene; and so quietly, so much a part of 


Fic. 44. THE SILENT SAVAGES. 


nature, that one hardly felt any difference between him and 
the forest folk. In asilently, swiftly moving curiara he would 
glide under the shadows of the overhanging mangroves. 
Sometimes the curiara would be a merchant vessel, laden 
with ollas, fruit, etc., with its destination Maturin, many 
miles away in the interior. Again its only occupant was a 
fisherman, as silent as the Herons themselves. Like a Heron 


82 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


also he would station himself near a shady pool, and sit all 
day, motionless save for the changing of bait or the pulling 
in of a fish. With the turning of the tide the line would be 
drawn up, the fish covered with cool green leaves and the 
curiara would move away, the bronze figure of its owner 
skilfully guiding it up the winding river. 

Occasionally the fisherman was accompanied by his squaw, 
hardly to be distinguished from him, and in the bow there 
was often the little naked figure of a child playing with a mite 
of a tame monkey, or both sound asleep with their arms 
wrapped about each other. All that these simple folk ask 
of life is one fish to eat, another with which to buy cassava 
and a yard of cotton cloth. 

In the brief tropical twilight we would hastily make prep- 
arations for the night, spreading our air-beds on deck, 
hanging over them a white mosquito canopy and putting our 
electric flashlight and revolver at hand. After the first two 
nights we had abandoned the cabin, which had added to its 
other discomforts the fact that all the mosquitoes of the 
cafio had selected it as their abode. Never were nights: 
more beautiful than those which we spent on the deck of that 
little sloop, and never was sleep more dreamless and peaceful. 

In the darkness of early evening, before the moon rose, we 
would sit on deck munching sugar-cane while the Captain 
told us many a tale of his young days, when he was the 
prosperous owner of a schooner twice the size of the “ Josefa 
Jacinta”? and when smuggling brought adventure and yellow 
gold in abundance. He was full of legend and superstition. 
He told us of aged men and women, both among the Indians 
and the Spaniards, who he declared can by a peculiar whistle 
call together all the snakes in the vicinity and then by incan- 
tations so hypnotize them that they can he handled with 
impunity. The owner of a hacienda will sometimes employ 
one of these charmers to call together the snakes, which can 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 83 


then be killed. The performers themselves, however, will 
never harm a snake. He told many a story of black magic 
arts, in which he firmly believed, of sending to one’s ene- 
mies scourges of rats or deadly diseases or departed spirits 
to make life unendurable. 


Fic. 45. GUARAUNO INDIANS COMING TO TRADE AT CANO COLORADO. 


Finally the crew would roll up in their blankets in the bow, 
the Captain would disappear beneath his mosquitaro, which 
would tremble and quake in the moonlight until he lay quiet 
in his hammock. We would creep beneath our tent of 
netting to write up the last notes of the day or to listen to 
the sounds of the night. From the bow would come a low 
murmur of voices in some weird chanting song until the 


84 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


4 
Captain roared out for all hands to go to sleep. But he would 
not practice what he preached for he always talked himself 
to sleep, sometimes in English, or in Spanish or again in 
Creole, while now and then he would mingle all three. 

By day one would not have suspected Filo, the mate, of 
being a person of romance; but under the spell of the tropi- 
cal moonlight he would often tell stories to the crew; stories in 
which the heroine was always “Muy preciosa, muy joven, 
muy linda,’ —very charming, very young and very beautiful. 
She would set difficult tasks for her many lovers, and her 
favored suitor would be the one who most bravely bore him- 
self under the tests. I remember one tale to which the crew 
listened with awe; in which one of the lovers was to lie all 
night in the cathedral, stiff and still like a corpse; another 
was to go to the same cathedral on the same night dressed 
in winding sheets like a ghost; another was to represent the 
angel of death, while a fourth impersonated the devil; and a 
fifth was sent as an ordinary man. Of course none of them 
were to know of the others having been sent by the fair 
heroine of the story; and of course the fortunate lover was. 
the one who showed no terror and passed the night quietly 
in the church, returning in the morning to claim his bride. 

The story had its dramatic situations and Filo made the 
most of them. Even Maestro was moved to utter a low 
“Dios mio!” at the description of the entrance of the ghost, 
the angel of death and finally the devil; at which the poor 
corpse, who had been shaking with fear through it all, started 
up and fled in terror. 

Filo’s story lost nothing in his telling and the superstitious 
crew went very soberly to rest that night. W-—W— and I lay, 
as we so often did, staring wonderingly out into the night, 
— the marvellous tropical night. 

It was all like a dream; the shining water of the cafio, the 
deep, mysterious forest growing down to the water’s edge, the 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 8 5 


cries of unknown birds and beasts, the impressive southern 
cross and the extraordinary brilliancy of the moonlight shin- 
ing down upon the tiny deck of the ‘“ Josefa Jacinta,’”’ and 
upon us and the sleeping forms of its dusky crew. 

We were sometimes awakened in the night by a sudden 
bright light in our faces. It was Maestro making a fire, in 


Fic. 46. GUARAUNO SQUAWS AND CHILD witH MONKEY. 


which operation he used alarming quantities of kerosene, to 
prepare the midnight repast for the crew, who whenever they 
woke in the night would call loudly “ Maestro — café!” 
Again the sound of an unusually heavy downpour of trop- 
ical rain on the tarpaulin overhead would waken us, and I 
would occasionally discover that my feet were in a puddle of 
water. A shifting of beds to prevent our being drowned 
while we slept would invariably result in our feet being 


86 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


higher than our heads, and because of the horde of mosqui- 
toes which found their way in while the beds were being 
moved, the rest of that night would be sleepless. 

With the dawn came the roar of the howling monkeys; 
a dainty Tigana™ picked its way among the mud-flats; a flock 
of Hervidores*® —which being translated means “boilers,” 
an appellation perhaps suggested by the notes of these black 
Cuckoos — bubbled away as cheerily as a bright kettle on a 
breakfast table. And with these sounds of the dawn all our 
troubles of the night were forgotten. 

After weeks of solitude in the mangrove jungles our prow 
was headed inland and a long night of silent drifting with 
the tide brought us to the mouth of the Guanoco River. Here 
the Captain and the unruly crew at dawn had their usual 
heated argument as to the management of the boat, with the 
result that they nearly ran her aground — one of the many 
narrow escapes which had happened so often as to create 
but little interest on our part. 

Guanoco was a river of bends, around each one of which 
the Captain assured us we would see the village. But it was 
twilight before we turned the final bend and saw picturesque 
Guanoco at the hour of vespertino — a hill rising steep and 
blue, with the silvery river at its foot and a cluster of little 
thatched huts perched one above another on the hillside. 

It was delightful to feel solid ground under one’s feet 
again and we could hardly get over our accustomed walk of 
“three steps and over-board.” 

Here in our wilderness we found an unexpected home. 
Through the kindness of our cordial friends in ‘Trinidad — 
Mr. Eugene André and Mr. Ellis Grell — we had letters to 
the men in charge of the pitch lake at Guanoco and it was to 
this great lake that the tiny settlement of Guanoco owed its 
being. 

As soon as we reached the wharf, a young Venezuelan 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 87 


came on board, introducing himself as Sefor Bernardo 
Lugo y Escobar,— one of the officials of the Pitch Lake 
Company, and explaining that Mr. Grell had written him 
that we might possibly come to Guanoco and that we were 
to be entertained at the headquarters for as long as we chose 
to stay. Mr. Lugo was most urgent in his hospitality and I 
knew well of what the sloop dinner would consist. Maestro 
and I would hold a perfectly futile consultation in which we 
would decide upon the only possible menu— funche (which is 
the Venezuelan name for cornmea! mush), dried pea soup and 
cocoa. I must explain that the lack of variety in our larder 
was due to the fact that we had expected to be able to supple- 
ment our canned goods with fresh fish and game, both of 
which proved difficult to obtain, the latter because of the 
impossibility in this vast swamp of ever finding the game 
after it was shot. The experience taught us the useful 
lesson which every camper and explorer learns sooner or later, 
sometimes alas! foo late — never to depend upon the game of 
the country, but always to plan your provisions as if game did 
not exist. ‘Then when one gets it, it comes as an unexpected 
luxury. 

But to return to my visions of a good dinner in the prepara- 
tion of which I had no part or responsibility. Perhaps there 
would also be the luxury of a real bath. I was roused from 
these attractive reflections by the voice of the Captain politely 
refusing Mr. Lugo’s invitation for the night, and saying that 
we would not go ashore until the next day. Whereupon 
I diplomatically remarked in English,— that Mr. Lugo 
might not understand, — that I thought Mr. Lugo’s feelings 
would be hurt if we refused, and as long as we were to go the 
next day and there was nothing to be gained by spending 
the night on the sloop, why not gratify him by going at once. 

And so it came about that in a few minutes more we were at 
“Headquarters.”’ As the house was quite invisible from the 


88 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


water, we had imagined that we were to go to one of the 
thatched huts which we had seen from the river. 
To our surprise, around the base of the hill we found 


ourselves going up a pretty palm bordered walk which led to 
a low, massive, fort-like building. 


Fic. 47. PitcH LAKE, SHOWING FRESHLY DUG PIT FILLED WITH WATER; 
AN OLDER PIT FILLED WITH SOFT PITCH, BOTH SURROUNDED BY THE 
HARD SURFACE PITCH. 


In the broad open hall were comfortable rocking chairs, 
in striking contrast to the sloop on which we had taken turns 
sitting on the one stool which the little craft possessed. In 
the patio was a table laid for dinner — with a big black 
Trinidad negro bringing in steaming dishes. 

There is no hospitality anywhere quite equal to that of the 
wilderness. Your host does not arrange your visit from the 
Saturday to the Monday, fitting you in between a multitude 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. . 89 


of other engagements. A wilderness welcome is as genial and 
inevitable as the tropical sunshine. Your visit is an event — 
a mile-stone in the long road of lonely months of exile — 
months which sometimes lengthen into years. Our very 
interesting friend Mr. Eugene André of Trinidad told us 
that on one of his many orchid-hunting expeditions he had 
chanced to land at a certain God-forsaken little port on the 
west coast of Colombia. Mr. André had wondered why 
the fare to this port from Panama should be $30 — while the 
return passage was $100. The problem was solved after he 
had seen the port — desolate, barren, inaccessible and fever 
and insect ridden — one might be induced to pay $30 to get 
there provided one knew not what manner of place it was. 
But to get away — one would pay any sum and gladly. So 
it is that the little coastwise steamboat company calmly 
demands $100 to return the unfortunate traveller to Panama 
—and gets it. 

At this forlorn spot there were stationed two young men, I 
forget now in what capacity, who for many months had not 
seen an intelligent human being. Into the empty monotony 
of their lives, Mr. André appeared.’ It mattered not to those 
lonely young men who he was, nor where he came from. 
His welcome was — “Stay with us. Stay a year — or ten 
years. We know all about each other. We’ve talked about 
everything until there is nothing left to say — we even know 
how much sugar we each like in our tea and who our great 
grandmothers. were, and who we think wrote Shakespeare’s 
plays; — and we are so bored and so glad to see a new face.”’ 

Thus it is that everywhere in the South American wil- 
derness the English-speaking stranger is made welcome by 
his kind, and we found Guanoco no exception to this rule. 

The pretty Spanish greeting is — “The house is yours” 
and during our stay at the Pitch Lake, the headquarters be- 
came really ours. We were given the best room; the servants 


gO OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


were put at our disposal: and best of all we were perfectly 
free to come and go as we pleased; and with everything done 
to facilitate our work. All this we owed also to the instruc- 
tions of Mr. Ellis Grell, who was then financing the Pitch 
Lake Company and to the kindness of Mr. Lynch and Mr. 
Stoute, two young West Indians employed by the company. 


Fic. 48. DIGGING OUT THE BLACK, WAXLIKE PITCH. 


We were tired that first night at Guanoco. The night 
before had been a hard one — sailing all night long, with 
the boom swinging back and forth and making impossible 
the hanging of our mosquito nets. All through the night the 
Captain and his crew worked. Down the narrow river the 
Captain skilfully guided the sloop in the darkness of a moon- 
less night, following the line of the trees against the sky to 
mark the channel. His commanding old voice rang from 
stern to bow, the orders being there repeated by the mate 
to the sailors who were towing us, and who paused in the 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. gI 


wild melody which they chanted through that wonderful night, 
to listen and obey. It was a difficult and dangerous task — 
the guiding of that sloop down so narrow and winding a river: 
and even the unruly crew were obedient that night, rendering 
the homage which in time of danger the ignorant uncon- 
sciously yield to a superior intelligence. 

When we wondered at the Captain’s confidence, he replied 
in his deep voice, “Ah yes!— but I am old here and I know 
these cafios as I do my house.” And indeed here the curtain 
had risen upon his life and here it was likely to fall at the 
end of the last act. 

When finally quite exhausted we had laid down upon the 
deck to sleep, it was to fall into so profound a slumber that 
the mosquitoes devoured us unmolested, in spite of our head 
nets which proved insufficient protection. 

So it was that on that first night at Guanoco we were very 
tired. I sat lazily rocking in the cool evening breeze, 
annointing my irritating bites with Tango, a preparation 
dependent upon faith cure for its healing properties — and 
listening to the desultory talk of the young men. The con- 
versation was desultory, however, only so long as the Venezue- 
lan element of the household was present. On this occasion 
that element was represented by the young Mr. Lugo who 
had met us at the wharf. After he had gone out on some 
errand the story of Pitch Lake was poured into our inter- 
ested ears. It was a story of intrigue and revolution and 
treason quite worthy of some medieval court. First there 
was the passive Venezuelan possession; then the active, en- 
terprising, money-making reign of the North American; hav- 
ing as its natural result the jealousy of Castro, his oppres- 
sion and injustice to the American Company; their rebellion, 
in which they aided a great revolution against Castro; his 
revenge being to seize the property and put it in charge of 
Venezuclans. Then came the departure of the American 


Q2 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Company, which had done so much to develop the Pitch 
Lake, followed by the arrival of the Venezuelans appointed 
by the Government — men who knew just about as much 
about managing a great Pitch Lake as they did about guiding 
an aéroplane. We were told of the time long before the 
advent of the Lugo family—when for weeks it was necessary 
to live always on the alert, with revolver ever ready for defence; 
when the very men with whom one sat down at table were 
capable of attempting to poison the food, in order to free 
themselves of English-speaking men, who might perhaps 
witness some ugly deed of treachery or defalcation. 

This is the very long story ina nutshell. We began then to 
understand why the house was so fort-like in structure. It 
had been built to withstand assault. Only a few months 
before our visit it had been attacked by a party of Revolu- 
tionists who hoped to find money in the company safe; and 
five men had been killed and several injured. 

This thrilling tale was told in the emotionless matter-of- 
fact way in which one might describe the moves in a game 
of chess. 

From the moment our sloop sailed out of the harbor of 
Port of Spain the memory of the old familiar every-day world 
had seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer. Was it possible 
that there really was such a place as New York City, with 
its clanging sireet-cars, its trains and subways and elevated 
roads thronged with people, en masse all as much alike as an 
army of ants? At that very hour the New York Theatres 
were pouring their gay crowds into the brilliantly lighted 
streets. How far away it all seemed, down there in the great 
primeval forest of another continent! We walked out under 
the stars to the edge of the forest, black and mysterious, 
teeming with the hidden life, which we were so eager to 
study. Our world, for the present, was this forest wilder- 
ness, stretching unbroken for mile upon mile, with only the 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 93 


twinkling lights of Guanoco to remind us of human habita- 
tions. I dreamed that night of being stabbed in the back by 
a howling monkey, while the safe of the Pitch Lake Company 
was broken into by a band of shrieking Macaws! 

On the morning after our arrival at Guanoco we sorrowfully 
said good-by to the “Josefa Jacinta.” As we watched her 
sail away we consoled ourselves by planning another and a 
longer trip on her — a trip which never took place. Looking 
back after almost two years I realize that life can bring me 


Fic. 49. LOADING PITCH ON THE HAND Cars. 


few experiences more full of interest and charm than those 
days on a little Venezuelan sloop exploring the mysterious 
untrodden mangroves! ‘‘ How could you enjoy it?”’ I am 
often asked: but the trifling discomforts were all in the day’s 
work and more than compensated by the beauty and free- 
dom and wonder of it all. They served to make us know 
that it was, not all a dream. 

Our days at Guanoco began early and were full to over- 
flowing of interest and of work. In the heat of midday we 
pressed flowers, skinned birds and wrote up our journals, 


One igs OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


but in spite of being so busy, we found time to get a little 
into the atmosphere of the human life. 

Here is the daily program at the lake of pitch, — this little 
outpost of humanity, deep hidden in the tropical jungle. At 
daybreak the group of sheds and thatched huts gives up a 
horde of Trinidadian negroes; great black fellows, giants in 
strength, children in mind. Amid a perfect medley of 
excitement and uproar, breakfast is prepared. We hear 
sounds which must mean at least the violent death of several, 
and as one listens to the shrieks and groans, the imagi- 
nation easily supplies the terrible blows and struggles. But 
a Closer look only shows one of these great children down on 
his knees, calling on everything which occurs to him or 
enters his vision to witness that he did not steal the sixpence 
from Napoleon, of which some one has accused him, perhaps 
in jest 

Yet all this is calmness compared to the later rush for the 
best cars to use in the day’s work. It would delight a Sopho- 
more’s heart to see the mélée. But somehow all is straight- 
ened out and off go the hand trucks, crawling along the 
rickety rails out over the lake, like beads sliding along a string. 
Here a car has reached the end of the line?) Pitesmeams 
selects a place fairly clear of vegetation, takes his broad adze, 
and shears away the upper few inches of roots and mould. 
Then with deep swift strokes he outlines a big chunk of the 
shiny black gum, cuts it loose, and carries it on his head to 
his car. So malleable is the pitch that by the time he has half 
filled the little iron truck the pitch has settled down and 
filled all interstices. He trundles back the car and dumps it 
into one of the larger wooden trucks which will take it to 
Guanoco. He now receives a check which is redeemable 
for fifteen cents and the first link in the commercialization 
of the pitch is finished. Along the wavering line of tem- 
porary rails over which the hand-cars are pushed back and 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 95 


forth, are dozens of grave-like holes. Those nearer the rail- 
road end are smooth-edged and filled with soft pitch on which 
as yet no vegetation has taken root. Farther along they are 
filled with water, and still farther we find them in the process 
of being excavated. 


Fic. 50. MANGROVE WILDERNESS FROM THE HIGH LAND AT GUANOCO. 


The men dig down until they have reached a depth of five 
or six feet, and then start in a new place. The hole is filled 
by the first rain; water-bugs fly to the little pool, frogs 
lay their eggs in it, queer fish wriggle their way to it and 
for a brief space it supports a considerable aquatic life. 
Then new soft pitch begins to ooze up and in a few more 
weeks the plug of viscid black gum has reached the level of 
the ground and the scar is soon healed over by a thin growth 
of grass. 

In the rainy season the holes fill at once with water, 
and indeed the whole plain is immersed to the depth of 


96 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


a foot or more; then the men have to work up to their 
waists in water, chopping beneath the surface, prying the 
pieces loose with their toes and tearing the chunks off by 
taking long breaths and reaching far down for a few seconds 
at a time. 

When we cross our asphalt streets and smell the tarry odor 
and feel its softness under a mid-summer’s sun, let us think 
of the strange lake in the tropical wilderness. 

The table talk at ‘‘ Headquarters,’ was often most amus- 
ing. Torrents of Spanish eloquence and gesticulations kept 
our English ears ever on the alert to follow the meaning, 
and our sense of humor ever under strict control to pre- 
serve well-bred gravity when such statements were made as 
“Venezuela leads not only all the South American coun- 
tries, but all those of North America as well, in literature, 
art, science and commerce. When our General Blank 
went to New York the greatest ovation ever paid any 
general in the world was given him. New York remained 
amazed! ”’ 

Once only did I look amused and I have never quite 
recovered from my mortification at thus disgracing myself. 
Whatever the faults of the Spaniard may be, he never smiles 
when he is not intended to; not even at the laughable mis- 
takes which we foreigners make when we are learning his 
beautiful language. I try to say in extenuation of my 
unseemly mirth that the Spaniard has no sense of humor 
and that we should very much prefer having him laugh at 
our mistakes and letting us correct them. But all to no pur- 
pose. I know that I did not behave like a well conducted 
Venezolana, and nothing can alter that fact. 

The three Venezuelans had been put in charge of the 
Pitch Lake,—because their ‘ Sister’s husband’s niece” 
had power in the court of Castro. Among their regular 
duties they included singing airs from the operas, reading 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN 


VENEZUELA. 


97 


INHABITANTS OF GUANOCO ASSEMBLED FOR A DANCE. 


PIG. sr: 


98 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Don Quixote and the Caracas newspapers and playing 
dominos. 

They had provided themselves with elaborate costumes for 
the réle; they carried big revolvers and wore huge green and 
white cork helmets, khaki riding clothes, puttees, spurs, and 
carried riding whips. There was not a horse within filty 
miles! No horse, even had there been one, could penetrate 
the tiny forest trails about Guanoco. 

In the dancing sunlight and shadows and the orchid- 
fragrant air it was hard to picture spilt blood and intrigue and 
treachery, and harder still to prophesy the sad times that were 
to come upon Guanoco. Yet while we were there the air 
teemed with revolutionary rumors. The Jefe civil, as the 
chief magistrate was called, was off day after day investiga- 
ting first one suspicion and then another, returning utterly 
spent with the exhaustion of unresting days and nights upon 
the trail. Revolutionists had attempted to land guns on the 
near-by coast. ‘There had been a skirmish and several men 
had been killed. 

All the available guns and ammunition were gotten together 
and every night the doors were barred securely; for what the 
revolutionists chiefly needed was money, and should there be 
an uprising in northeastern Venezuela, the Pitch Lake head- 
quarters would be the first point of attack. It was in charge 
of Castro sympathizers, there might be large sums of money 
in the Company’s safe and it was practically unprotected. 

In the meantime diplomatic relations between our United 
States and Venezuela had been severed and one morning a 
United States battleship was discovered lying quietly in the 
harbor of La Guayra. The numbers of la Constitucional — 
a month old when they reached us — were beginning to talk 
of war and to boast of the ease with which Venezuela would 
erase the United States of America from the face of the 
globe. Bitter things were said about the sister republic in 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 99 


the north. And there we were living on the bone of con- 
tention itself. 

It was about this time that I began to see the advisability of 
being more than ordinarily civil; and so it happened that I 
was led into playing cards for the first and only time for 
money and that on a Sunday! We had been working almost 
incessantly and I had begun to feel that, even if it was to 
Mr. Grell that we were indebted for the hospitality, it was 
not quite nice for us to appear only at ‘‘ feeding time,” par- 
ticularly as our long days out of doors gave us such appalling 
appetites. So on this occasion when I was asked to make a 
fourth at cards, I saw no way out of it. Moreover, the battle- 
ship lay in the harbor of La Guayra, and my countrymen 
were in sad disfavor in Venezuela. W had ignominiously 
deserted and gone to bed, so there was only one sleepy little 
woman left to uphold the honor of a great nation! 

The game was “ Siete y media,” — “‘ seven and a half.” I 
forget the rules now. I only remember that they seemed very 
intricate as explained to me in Spanish. Fortunately for me, 
the stakes were low, for I steadily lost all the time. ‘‘ Grano 
por grano la gallina come,’ quoted Mr. Lugo, — “ grain by 
grain the hen eats.”’ 

Later he remarked how he hated to win from the senorita — 
but the sefiorita observed that he hated it much as the famous 
walrus wept for the oysters while — 


‘¢ ... he sorted out 


Those of the largest size, 
Holding his pocket-handkerchief 
Before his streaming eyes.” 


I was wofully tired and sleepy. I did not at all know the 
etiquette of gambling! And I thought the loser must not be a 
‘“ quitter ’’ — even if the extent of her losses was only ‘‘ dos 
reales,’ or twenty-five cents. So I played on until at mid- — 
night the game was declared over. 


* 


100 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


It is well that virtue is its own reward, as it has no other, 
for I was told the next morning by a husband who had had 
a perfectly good night’s sleep — that I was a very foolish 
person indeed to sit up playing cards with those men, and 
that the loser could always stop: it was the winner who must 
not propose it. 


Fic. 52. A PALM-SHEATH ROCKING Toy. 


The negroes from the Pitch Lake always came down on 
Saturday nights and serenaded us with wild Creole airs, and 
at the sound of the quaterns and violins huge hairy tarantulas 
would come forth from their hiding-places in our rooms and 
creep briskly here and there over walls and floor. We were 
greatly interested in this effect of the vibrations of sound, but 
we never bothered the great creatures in their strange “‘ taren- 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. IOI 


telles,”’ and they paid no attention to us. The venomous 
effect of the bites of all these eight or hundred-legged beings 
is greatly exaggerated, and there is absolutely no serious dan- 
ger to a healthy person with good red blood in his veins; in 
some of the half-starved, rum-drinking natives the scratch of 
a pin would induce blood-poisoning. 

Labor was easily secured in Guanoco. The morning after 
our arrival we expressed a wish to employ a boy to act as 
attendant, carrying camera, gun, butterfly net, etc., when we 
went on our long tramps. One of the young men at head- 


7 ANG. at 


quarters went to the door and called ‘ muchacho,’ 
once a small boy appeared. I should have judged his age 
to be between eleven and twelve; but he himself did not 
know. He said his grandmother was “ keeping his age.”’ A 
charming idea is that Venezuelan custom of having some 
responsible member of the family keep all the ages. Think 
of being able to say truthfully that you really do not know how 
old you are! But then a Venezuelan woman never confesses 
to more than twenty-seven, no matter what may have been the 
flight of time. 

Our small servant’s name proved to be Maximiliano Ro- 
mero, and with supreme self possession, boldly spitting to the 
right and left, he professed himself willing to enter our service. 
Like a true Venezuelan he used expectoration to punctuate all 
his remarks. What a quaint little figure he was, topped by 
a huge straw hat with a high peaked crown; the hat the work 
of the little brown hands of Max himself, for he was a hat- 
maker by profession. His face was alert but very grave. 
He rarely smiled, but when he did it was in no half-hearted 
way, but with an abandon of childish glee. I found myself 
devoting a good deal of valuable time to trying to bring into 
being that charming smile of Maximiliano’s. One never 
knew just what would touch the right chord. Once he went 
off into gales of merriment at the escape of a lizard which we 


102 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


were trying to photograph. He always saw the funny side 
of our mishaps. 

Max showed plainly in what esteem he held naturalists. 
The first day he went out with us he was neatly dressed in 
dark blue jeans. When he appeared on the second morning 
we did not recognize him. A small ragamuffn stood before 
us, stamping like a pony to drive away the flies, which hovered 


FIG. 53. SHEATH IN FIG. 52, COVERING THE FLOWER OF A PALM. 


about his ankles. His clothes were a mass of rags — it was 
impossible to say what had been the original color or mate- 
rial. Max had taken our measure and decided that people 
who tramped through the ‘‘ bush”’ as we did were not worthy 
of anything better than rags. 

Sometimes in the jungle we would meet Indian women 
who, living far in the interior, were on their way to Guanoco 
to buy machetes, fish-hooks and other articles of civilization. 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 103 


They would always stop and make friends with us, with child- 
like curiosity asking where we came from, and why we 
wanted birds and lizards and butterflies, and murmuring the 
words dear to every woman’s heart in all lands, ‘‘ Que joven- 
cita!’’ which literally translated is ““ What a young little 
thing !’’ Very simple-hearted are these poor Indian women 
and so hard are their lives that at a very early age do they 
cease to be jovencita. 

We would often meet the wandering tribes of Guarauno 
Indians, who live nearly always upon the march, carrying 
all their worldly possessions upon their backs and sleeping 
wherever night happens to find them. They very rarely 
knew even a word of Spanish and shunned any intercourse 
with strangers, scorning the inventions of civilization and 
using the poisoned arrows of their ancestors. 

One Sunday morning one of the laborers at the near-by 
Pitch Lake, bearing the pious name of José de Jesus Zamoro, 
came into headquarters to invite us to a dance that afternoon 
at his house. The house of Zamoro had nothing particularly 
to recommend it as a ballroom; for the floor was of dirt, the 
ceiling low and the walls windowless. But it was crowded; 
the air stifling and the dancers dripping with perspiration. 
The music was wild and strange, the man who shook the 
maracas — an instrument consisting of two gourds filled with 
dried seeds which is shaken in time to the music — often 
breaking into a weird song, making up the words as he went 
along, with some joke about each dancer. As the songster’s 
zeal waxed high he described himself as being so great that 
‘““ where he stood the earth trembled.” 

Between dances the ladies’ last partners were supposed to 
take them into the next room where drinks were for sale. 
This was the explanation of Zamoro’s zeal for dances: music 
and dance hall were free, but a substantial profit came from 
the drinks. 


104 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


The ball gowns had but one beauty — that of originality. 
There was always an unfortunate hiatus between bodices 
and skirts, which was partly concealed by the long straight 
black hair which hung down the backs of the women. The 
shoes were in a piteous condition, never the right size, very 
seldom mates and not infrequently both were for the same 
foot. But all the skirts had trains and all ears bore ear-rings. 
We were told that these women often danced all day and all 
night, until they became perfectly dazed, their feet moving 
mechanically in time to the music of the national dance — 
the joro pa, which is a cross between a clog dance and a waltz. 

We saw dancing the women whose curiara had so narrowly 
escaped a fatal collision with our sloop in the Guarapiche. 
The Captain had said they were leaving Maturin “to operate 
some speculation in Guanoco — perhaps even to find hus- 
bands.” And here among so many men, for the population 
of Guanoco was chiefly composed of men employed at the 
lake, surely there was hope, even for adventuresses so black 
and uncouth as these. Here also we met one of Guanoco’s 
most amusing characters, a big black Trinidad negro. He 
was full of the superiority of one who had seen the world; 
for he had once been to England as stateroom steward on one 
of the big steamers. He now dropped his h’s, called his wife 
“Tady Mackay” and on Sundays wore a monocle. 

It was twilight as we walked home through the little settle- 
ment. At one of the huts two little naked babies were playing 
“rock-a-by”’ in the great curved sheaths which protect the 
blossom of the moriche, or eta palm. At another a child 
came out and sang a little Spanish song for us —all about 
her sins and the confession she must make to the priest, the 
refrain being ‘‘Mz penetencia! mi penetencia”’! and she sang 
it with her small hands clasped and her head devoutly bowed. 
A few coins made the wee penitent superlatively happy. Her 
mother must have taught her the song, for in Guanoco there 


105 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 


O90 


NV 


A) LV IddVHO SSATISAINgG 


106 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


was no priest, no school, no doctor. The two young West 
Indians at headquarters (neither much more than twenty 
years old) officiated at all funerals, being Catholic or Protes- 
tant, in Spanish or English, as the case demanded. They 
prescribed for all diseases, from the prevalent fever to the 
woman who was suffering greatly but could give no more 
definite description of her trouble than that she had a “pain 
that walked.” 

I could never understand the fever so common at Guanoco: 
for I never knew a place more free from mosquitoes and from 
insects of every description. We were continually in the sun 
and often in the rain, yet we both kept in perfect health. 

The women of the village had converted a small open shed 
into a chapel, with an altar, on which were all the offerings 
they could make, a few candles, some bits of gilt paper and 
tinsel, a rude wooden cross and a wretched little chromo of 
the Virgin. Here, as we passed, we saw the women kneeling, 
for where else could they take their troubles! 

At last our Venezuelan experiences were a thing of the past, 
and we were homeward bound, leaving behind us the dear 
delightful never-know-what’s-going-to-happen life; and realiz- 
ing, as our ship cut her way through the countless ‘“‘ knots” 
of dashing waves, that as Maximiliano had said with a shake 
of his head, when we laughingly asked him if he did not want 
to go with us, “esta tan léjos ’’ — it is so far! 

* x 2 * ** ** * 

Much has happened at Guanoco since the days of our 
visit. 

Very soon after our departure, Castro fearing the smoul- 
dering revolutionary plots in Trinidad, ordered all the ports of 
eastern Venezuela closed. Later came the deadly bubonic 
plague sealing for many months all the ports of the unfortu- 
nate country. Then indeed trouble descended upon poor 
little Guanoco. It was an essentially non-agricultural part 


A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA. 107 


of the country. The one industry had been the digging of 
pitch, the company’s boat plying between Guanoco and Trini- 
dad having brought all necessary supplies. Now with all 
communication cut off the people were in a piteous condition. 

In the revolution of the Wheel of Fate — which whirls so 
rapidly in Venezuela, — the Lugo family had been deposed 
and a new Venezuelan administrator appointed in their 


Fic. 55. GUARAUNO INDIAN PAPOOSE. 


place. Having known the Lugos, I like to think that they 
would have been less heartless than their successor, who, so 
the report goes, sold what supplies there were to the starving 
people at cruelly exorbitant prices. 

No matter how much one may love Nature, one cannot 
help feeling how unmoved she is in the face of suffering. 
Human beings might starve and sicken and die at Guanoco, 
but the sunshine would be just as warm and glowing and the 
wind in the palm trees just as musical as ever. 


108 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


With the cutting off of communication between Venezuela 
and ‘Trinidad, Captain Truxillo’s occupation was gone. 
The “ Josefa Jacinta”’ no longer plied busily back and forth 
between Port of Spain and Maturin, driving a brisk trade in 
hammocks, groceries and hides; and so at last she passed 
from the possession of Captain Truxillo to that of some more 
prosperous trader who could afford to wait for the reopening 
of commerce. . 

For a year our old Captain watched his little vessel guided 
out of the harbor of Port of Spain, with a strange hand at 
the helm, and a strange voice in command. ‘Then one day 
she sailed away never to return — but to be run aground and 
lost on a desolate and lonely part of the Venezuelan coast. 

What became of her new Captain and crew we never heard. 
We knew only that the ‘“‘ Josefa Jacinta”’ was lost, and that 
we could never sail her again, except on dream cafios in a 
phantom wilderness. 


PART II 
OUR SECOND SEARCH 


BRITISH GUIANA 


109 


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0000 NWIYV OL NOILIGAadX3 GNOIDIS XXXX QIYOOH OL NOILIGIdX] LSUI4 


HHH JYWOAV OL NOLLICIdX] GYIHL 


VIanZ aNa A 


ary sind 


nu! Wy wyauve 


GREK EI HER 


CHAPTER IV. 
GEORGETOWN. 


7 2 estan year has slipped past and again we are 

southward bound, toward that Mecca — the tropics — 
which never ceases to call us. The time is the fifteenth of 
February, 1909; the place, the Royal Dutch Mail Steamship 
‘“‘ Coppename.”’ 

Nine days out from New York at three o’clock in the 
morning we are roused suddenly from sleep by a gentle 
roaring in our ears. When we have gained partial conscious- 
ness we realize it is the basso-profundo whisper of good Cap- 
tain Haasnoot summoning us to the bridge. We ask no 
questions for we have learned that the voice of the genial 
Dutchman means something worth while, whether it is 
raised in a thunderous roar of “ Hofmeister!’’ or as now in 
gentler accents. Wrapped in flapping blankets, we climb 
the steep ladder to the bridge, there to enjoy for half an hour 
a most wonderful display of phosphorescence — even excelling 
that often visible in the Bay of Fundy. The Captain in all 
his world-wide sea-faring has never seen anything to equal it. 

We are only a short distance off the shore of British 
Guiana and the ocean is thick with sediment from the rivers. 
The sky is overcast and no light comes from the moon and 
stars, and yet the whole sea is plainly visible. The horizon 
glows with a dull, yellow flare against the jet black sky, and 
the myriad foam-caps shimmer as with brighter flames. 
The quenching of these in the opaque water gives a vivid 
impression of an enormous conflagration half hidden behind 


billows of smoke. 
Dis 


Li2 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


At day-break Georgetown is in sight — a low, flat line of 
wharfs, with a background of galvanized tin roofs and tall 
bending palm trees. Never was a fairyland set in so prosaic 
a frame! 

With what mingled feelings our little ship’s family lean on 
the rail and scan the shore! ‘To some the thought comes of 
the miracles of yellow gold and precious stones hidden deep 
beneath the primitive forests; to other sea-weary travellers 
the stability of the shore appeals most; while we two watch 
for the first hint of bird life. Our desire is gratified before 
that of any of the others, for over the water there comes the 
first morning call of the great yellow Tyrant *— Kis-ka-dee! 
bringing a hundred memories of the tropics. 

As we steam slowly up to the wharf a small flock of Gray- 
breasted Martins’ twitters above our heads, a Black Vulture*™ 
swings over the tin roofs, the jubilant song of a Guiana 
House Wren™ reaches our ear, and our Second Search has 
begun. 

To those who seek for wildernesses there is not much of 
interest in Georgetown, save the museum and the botanical 
garden. Yet there is no doubt that the city is one of the 
most attractive in the tropics, and when the inhabitants are 
aroused to a sense of the opportunities which they are throw- 
ing away, it will become a famous tourist resort; awakening 
the country to new life and bringing shekels to the coffers 
of its merchants. Hotels and mosquitoes are the two keys 
to the situation —the one to be acquired, the other banished. 
When this is done, the many popular winter resorts will 
be hard put to it to retain their lucrative migrants from 
the North. The inhabitants of Georgetown have one 
regrettable failing— an unreasoning fear and dread of 
their own country. They cling to their narrow strip of 
coastal territory, where they work and play, live and die, 
many of them without ever having been five miles away 


GEORGETOWN. BES 


from the sea. The majority of the inhabitants of French 
Guiana are convicts, chained for life to their prisons; here 
the good people of British Guiana bind themselves with 
imaginary bonds and picture their wonderful land as teem- 
ing with serpents and heaven-knows-what other terrors. 


hel 


’ - e 
Fyit 7 @ het is / 
’ — =: 


’ eo SP as 
: = EPS 
7 - 


FIG. 57. STREET IN GEORGETOWN. 


Another unfortunate failing is the firm conviction of some of 
the influential citizens that there is no truth in the mosquito 
theory as a cause of malaria and yellow fever. 

A distinguished English scientist, recently sent to inves- 
tigate yellow fever in Barbados and British Guiana, was 
holding up as an example to the citizens of Georgetown the 
Barbadian custom of keeping fishes in their water cisterns; 
explaining that the fishes devoured the mosquito larvae and 


Il4 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


thus kept down the number of mosquitoes. A Barbadian 
who chanced to be in the audience interrupted the scientist 
by saying, ‘“‘ Oh, but that is not the reason they put fishes 
in the cisterns. It is to make sure the water has not been 
poisoned by some enemy ”’! 

Until the mosquito is exterminated in Georgetown the 
tourist will prefer to go elsewhere, even though that be to a 
less beautiful spot. 


Fic. 58. KISKADEE TYRANT FLYCATCHER. 


/ 


We were advised to spend all our time in Georgetown, where 
we might drink pink swizzles (than which no worse medicine 
exists!) or read in the cool library, or study the natural history 
of the country impaled on pins or stuffed with cotton (both 
of which are improving occupations but can be done quite 
as well in New York). Every moment spent in streets of 
human making seemed sacrilege when the real wilderness — 
the wilderness of Waterton, of Schomburgk and of im Thurn 
— beckoned to us just beyond. | 3 


GEORGETOWN. Lrs 


Armed with proper letters of introduction and travelling 
in the name of science, one is treated with all courtesy by 
Guiana officials. The customs give no trouble, save that 
one pays a deposit of twelve per cent on cameras, guns and 
cartridges. 

We were glad to find that the most difficult privilege to 
obtain is a permit to collect birds, and the very stringent 
laws in this respect are an honor to the Governor and his 
colonial officials.* Thanks to the absence of the plume and 
general millinery hunter, the game hog and the wholesale 
collector, birds are abundant and tame. We were in the 
colony just two months and shot only about one hundred 
specimens, all of which were secured because of some special 


* In looking over the laws of the colony I found the following Wild 
Birds’ Protection Ordinance. I have added the explanatory names in 
parentheses. (C. W. B.) 


List of Wild Birds absolutely protected. 


Black Witch (Ani) Ground Dove Qu’est-ce qu’il dit (Kiskadee) 
Campanero (Bell Bird) Jacamar Shrike 

Carrion Crow (Vulture) Hawk Sun Bird (Sun Bittern) 
Cassique Heron Sparrow 
Cock-of-the-Rock Hummingbird Swallow 

Cotinga Hutu (Motmot) Tanager 

Crane (Heron) Kingfisher Thrush 

Creeper (Woodhewer) Kite Toucan 

Egret Macaw ‘Trogan 

Flycatcher Manakin Troupial 

Gauldin (Heron) Martin Woodpecker 
Goatsucker Owl Wren 

Grass Bird Parroquet Vulture 


List of Wild Birds protected from April rst to Sept rst. 


Bittern Hanaqua (Chachalaca) Plover 

Curlew Maam (Tinamou) Powis (Curassow) 
Curri-curri (Scarlet Ibis) Maroudi (Guan) Quail 

Douraquara (Partridge) Negro-cop (Jabiru) Snipe 

Dove (otherthanGround Parrot Spur-wing (Jacana) 
Ibis Dove) Pigeon ‘Trumpet-bird 


Wild Duck 


116 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


interest. We brought home some two hundred and eighty 
live birds which are now housed in the New York Zoological 
Park. 

Once off the single wharf-lined, business street of George- 
town, one is instantly struck by the beauty of the place. 
Green trees, flowering vines and shrubs are everywhere, half 
hiding the ugly, tropical architecture. The streets are all 
wide, some with gravel walks down the centre, shaded with 
the graceful saman trees; others with central trenches filled 
with the beautiful Victoria regia — here a native. 

Two species of big Tyrant Flycatchers *" ™ are the Eng- 
lish Sparrows of the city and White-breasted Robins,™ 
Palm “* and Silver-beak “ Tanagers perch on the limbs of 
trees at one’s very window. 

Although we are anxious to start on our first expedition 
into the “‘ bush,” as the primeval forests of the interior 
are called, yet a week passes very pleasantly in the city 
itself. 

The street life is a passing pageant, full of interest and of 
the charm of novelty for the Northerner. Carriages roll 
past in which sit very correctly dressed and typical English 
women; still others are filled with creoles, some to all appear- 
ances perfectly white, others in which the infusion of negro 
blood is very apparent. Many of the creole women have a 
certain languid beauty and a good deal of grace and self- 
possession. The passing of the liveried carriage of the 
Governor causes a ripple of excitement. It is five o’clock, 
the fashionable hour for driving, and all these equipages 
are bound for the sea-wall, where the occupants sit and 
listen to an excellent band, enjoy the sea breeze and chat with 
their neighbors about the all-important happenings of the 
social set of Georgetown; while the pale-faced children dig 
in the sand or run shrieking with glee from an incoming 
wave, just as do their rosy contemporaries of the North. 


GEORGETOWN. 1 eg 


Another picture is the coolie in his loose, white garments 
and turban and his sinewy, bare, brown legs. He gazes at 
you as calmly and as unmoved as though you were not. 
Even the lowest coolie bears about him this unconscious dig- 
nity of an ancient race and a civilization that was old when 
we were but beginning. 


Fic. 59. CooLtreE WOMAN AND NEGRESS. 


The coolie women make a vivid spot of color in our 
pageant — like some glowing tropical flower. Many of them 
are beautiful in feature and all are graceful in bearing. 
There never were women who so perfectly understood the 
art of walking. They swing along erect and lithe with a 
springing step and perfect coordination of every muscle. 
Their heavy bracelets and anklets tinkle musically as they 
move; their gay red and yellow and blue scarfs flutter in the 


118 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


breeze. The poise of their bodies reflects the perfect calm 
and repose of their smooth, brown faces. 

What an antithesis they are to the ponderous old black 
women who are striding along, with bedraggled skirts gath- 
ered up in a roll around their massive waists. ‘They are 
untidy and slatternly in dress, heavy and awkward in move- 
ment in comparison with the straight, slim, coolie women. 
They are full of loud laughter and talk and song. At every 
street corner they gather in friendly, jovial groups, while the 
coolie women are strangely silent and reserved. No wonder 
that these two races so hate and scorn one another, for in 
temperament they are as far apart as the poles! 

The British Guiana blacks were to us an unending source 
of interest and amusement. They were always courteous 
and kindly and most original. Even when swearing at each 
other their manner was always polite and each anathema 
ended with a civil “Suh!” Their dialect was at first very 
difficult to understand, but when our ears became familiar 
with it we found it singularly attractive. All the a’s are 
broad, even in such words as bad and man; while the intona- 
tion is indescribable, the verbs in a sentence being always 
emphasized and given a slight rising inflection, as for ex- 
ample, “I have been to Berbice.” An interrogation is often 
not at all indicated by the form of a question, but merely by 
the rising inflection, as — “These are nice?” The general 
effect of their speech is a very musical and distinctive intona- 
tion. 

Always the irrepressible spirit of the black rises serenely 
above all the vicissitudes of life. A black woman from 
Arakaka was sentenced to a month in jail. Upon her return 
she was welcomed by a crowd of friends, all eager to hear 
something of that mysterious jail, to which none of them 
were sure they might not some day go. To their questions 
“How was it? how was it?” the heroine of the occasion 


GEORGETOWN. 119 


replied with great dignity, “Me chile, dey see I was a lady 
an’ dey didn’ give me de same work as de other prisoners.”’ 
Later, on a trip down the river, the same woman, meeting 
the magistrate who had sentenced her, proudly remarked, 
“* Now I travel by meself ’’; her only previous experience in 
travelling having been under the escort of the police! 

Many of the blacks have far advanced cases of elephan- 
tiasis. In a five minutes’ walk one will see a half dozen 
examples of this deadly disease; but it takes more than ele- 
phantiasis or jail to sadden the volatile spirits of the negro! 


Fic. 60. THE GEORGETOWN SEA-WALL. 


Cosmopolitan as is the street pageant of Georgetown, it is, 
however, not so much so as that of Port of Spain. The coolies 
are even more numerous there than here, and in addition to 
the same sort of English and negro life, there is also an 
American, Spanish and French element. One hears on all 
sides the pretty French patois, and the musical Spanish of the 
South American is a constant delight. This large Spanish 
and French population make Port of Spain a decidedly 
Catholic city, and priests and nuns in unfamiliar garbs are 
always a part of the picture. 


120 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


It is very hard for us Northerners to realize that the course 
of a tropical day is much the same the year around. Here is 
a Georgetown day as we found it in February. At 5.30 A.M. 
it is still dark and the only sound is an occasional raucous 
crow from chanticleer. Soon a subdued murmur of sound is 
heard and this remains unchanged in volume for some time. 
Then the sunrise gun booms in the distance; a Kiskadee 
shrieks just outside our window; a score of others answer 
him; church chimes ring out; noisy coolie carts rattle past; 
negroes sing, dogs bark; an excellent brass band strikes up a 
two-step and amid all this pandemonium of sound the sun 
literally leaps above the horizon and instantly fills the world 
with brilliant color. The scene changes like magic; there 
is no dawn or dusk, night gives place to day without 
intermission. The temperature morning and evening is 
about 76°. 

Woven amid all the harsh cries of Kiskadees and Tana- 
gers is heard the sweet warbling of the little House Wrens, 
reminding us of our singers of the North, and bubbling over 
with the same crisp, vocal vitality which we hear in early 
Spring in our own country. 

Like the morning, the tropical day itself is one of extremes. 
The morning dawns fresh and bracing; until nine o’clock one 
walks briskly, breathes deeply and can hardly realize that he 
is at sea-level within seven degrees of the equator. It is April 
and May in the calendar of one’s feelings. ‘Then for an hour 
or two June reigns, and finally from eleven to five o’clock in 
the afternoon it is hot, sultry August. In the shade, however, 
it is always comfortable. From three o’clock on we experi- 
ence the coolness of October and until darkness shuts sud- 
denly down about half-past six —like the snuffing out of 
a candle — the temperature is perfect. The nights are de- 
lightfully cool. Mosquitoes are bad only in the houses and 
at night one’s net is a protection. ‘The humidity is high but 


GEORGETOWN. 121 


it is far more bearable than that of a summer in New York 
City, contrary to our usual idea of the tropics. 

The manner of rain in the tropics is peculiar: the atmos- 
phere may be ablaze with brilliant sunshine, when a slight 
haze appears in the air and suddenly one realizes that a 
fine gentle rain is falling. This may cease as imperceptibly 
as it began, or increase to a terrific downpour — to give 
place perhaps a few minutes later to the clear tropic glare 
again. 

Before taking leave of Georgetown we must mention the 
three chief points of attraction. The sea-wall comes first 
and, as we have said, a most pleasant custom of the natives 
is to drive there in late afternoon and sit in their carriages. 
The concrete break-water is of vital importance to the town 
itself as a portion of the streets are below sea-level. The 
proad summit forms a mile or more of promenade, with a 
sandy beach on one side, lapped with waves which strive ever 
to break, but cannot because of the thick sediment which they 
hold in suspense. On the other side a double row of tall, 
graceful palms adds a touch of tropical beauty. 

The residences near the sea-wall are the coolest and most 
pleasant in the town and are practically free from mosquitoes. 
We spent more than one delightful evening in the garden at 
Kitty Villa as the guests of our charming American friends, 
Mr. and Mrs. Howell. From the open, veranda-like rooms 
one may watch the Yellow Orioles,’ the Brown-breasted 
Pygmy Grosbeaks,’” the Anis and Kiskadees going to roost. 
Just before dusk scores of the small Black Vultures ** appear, 
flying singly, or in twos and threes low over the trees and palms 
westward to some general roost. About this time the bats 
and the lightning bugs arrive, large numbers of very tiny bats 
hawking about after insects, and several large fruit-eaters 
with wings spreading almost two feet across. ‘These haunt 
the fruit-laden sapadillo trees, and as the method of feeding of 


122 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


these curious creatures does not seem to be generally known 
we watch it with interest. One of the big fellows flits here 
and there, nipping first one fruit and then another. At last 
when a sweet or fully ripe one is found, the bat swoops up 
to it, alights head downward, and half enveloping it with 
his wings, bites away frantically for two or three seconds 
and then dashes off. This is repeated until darkness 
settles down, but never does the wary bat linger over his 
feast. 

In the north the sight of a single bat darting along on its 
eccentric way is not uncommon, but here we were soon to 
become accustomed to the sight of scores, some pursuing 
insects, or feeding on fruits, or waiting and watching for a 
chance to drink the blood of men and animals. More than 
twenty-five species have been found here within a few miles 
of the coast. Small Owls and nocturnal insectivorous 
birds are somewhat rare, and thus the bats have few foes 
and little competition in their aérial life. 

Late in the evening as we drive slowly homeward from the 
sea-wall we discover another interesting microcosm of the 
tropics. ‘The road is well lighted with arc-lamps — sources 
of irresistible attraction to numberless insects, many of which 
drop stunned to the earth beneath. Some genius among the 
Georgetown toads has discovered this fact and passed the 
word along, until now one finds a circle of expectant amphib- 
lans squatted beneath each arc-light, with eyes and hopes 
lifted to the shining globe overhead. Now and then an unfor- 
tunate insect falls within the magic circle, when a toad leaps 
lazily forward and devours the morsel with one lightning- 
like flick of the tongue. Many of these toads (Bufo agua) are 
enormous fellows, a good hatful, standing full eight inches 
from their pudgy toes to their staring eyes, all comical, 
dignified, fat and sluggish, barely hopping aside in time to 
avoid the horse and carriage. 


GEORGETOWN. 123 


To a visiting naturalist the 
museum is the place of greatest 
interest, and although the ani- 
mals and birds are faded and 
poorly mounted, yet they are 
representative of the fauna of 
the country and are hence of great 
value in accustoming one’s eyes 
to the strange forms of life. 
The present Curator, Mr. James 
Rodway, did everything in his 
power to aid us, and we are in- 
debted to him for many kind- roe a 
nesses. Although he is primarily 
a botanist, entomology occupies his attention at present, 
and the supply of species of the various orders of 


insects living in this region seems well-nigh inexhaustible. 
Mr. Rodway is a good example of the healthfulness of 
British Guiana, for he has lived there thirty-nine years and 
has been ill only one day. He accounts for this by his teeto- 
talism, but perhaps the next person we meet will inform us 
that a half dozen swizzles a day are absolutely necessary to 
keep the breath of life within the body! 

The Botanical Gardens, un- 
der the able direction of Prof. 
j+ B. Harrison, are a great 
credit to the colony. With 
beautiful vistas of palms and 
ornamental shrubs they com- 
bine smooth expanses of green 
lawns — a rare feature in a 
tropical landscape. Ponds and 
ditches are filled with Victoria 
regia and lotus, save one where 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


124 


*“SNGGUV+) IVOINVLOG AHL 


NI VIOGY VIXOLOIA “£9 ‘Oly 


GEORGETOWN. 125 


a number of manatees keep the aquatic vegetation cropped 
close. A wonderful palm was in blossom at the time of 
our visit—a Taliput with a mass of bloom twelve feet 
in height which had begun to flower the month before. 
Governor Hodgson and Prof. Harrison gave us the free- 
dom of the garden and placed at our disposal five circular 
aviaries which proved of inestimable value in housing the 
living birds which we were able to secure. 

Here Mr. Lee S. Crandall, our assistant, made his trapping 
headquarters after our return from our first inland expedition 
and here we spent many afternoons among the fields and by- 
paths. 

We soon found that bird-trapping in the tropics is a task 
beset by many difficulties. The extreme heat between the 
hours of ten and four o'clock make even the “tackiest”’ 
lime nearly as thin as water, and hardly capable of holding 
even the diminutive “doctor-bird”’ as the natives call the 
Hummingbirds. The call-birds, which are confined in very 
small cages, or cribs, cannot endure the high temperature 
under these conditions, and soon succumb if left out in 
the sun. Operations, therefore, must be confined to the 
few hours immediately following sunrise, and preceding 
sunset. 

Another feature, very trying to the bird-catcher, is the 
habit which most of the birds have of going singly or in pairs. 
A few of the Icterine birds, such as the Yellow-headed Black- - 
bird,’* Cowbird,’’ Little Boat-tailed Grackle,“ and most 
of the Cassiques, feed usually in flocks, sometimes of great 
size. In the deep bush of the interior it is the habit of birds 
of many species to search together for food, following a set 
route, and keeping closely to their time schedule. But ordi- 
nary call-birds and “set-ups” are not for these. 

This gregarious habit among widely varying birds _ is, 
however, at times, a great aid to the trapper. A cage con- 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


120 


WOSSOTY 


NI SALO'T 


r9 


OI, 


GEORGETOWN. 127 


taining a Yellow-bellied Calliste ““ was one day placed in 
a tree about twenty feet high, and limed twigs arranged 
on neighboring branches. In two hours in the morning, 
two specimens of the same species, three Blue Tanagers,'® 
two Black-faced Callistes,“* two Toua-touas or Brown- 
breasted Pygmy Grosbeaks,’* and one Yellow Oriole *° were 
taken. The various species of Tanagers and Orioles are 
much more gregarious in feeding habits than the Finches, 
hence the variety caught. The Toua-touas were purely 
accidental visitors. The Finches can rarely be taken by a 
call-bird not of the same species. 

The black or coolie boy who makes his living at catching 
birds at “tuppence’”’ each, sets out at daylight with his two 
or three call-birds in their cribs, arranged ona stick. Arrived 
at some secluded spot, where he has heard the song of an 
intended victim, he sets his call-birds on upright sticks of 
two or three feet in length and places on the top of each 
cage a strong wire, heavily smeared with the gum of the 
sapadillo. This wire is very carefully twisted so that it can- 
not by any possibility become locsened. This is, of course, 
contrary to the ethics of all good bird-catchers, for if the bird 
falls to the ground with its stick, it is much more certain to 
be secured, and less liable to injure itself. However, this is 
British Guiana. 

Having made his “set-up,” the youth steals softly back 
and conceals himself a short distance away. As soon as 
left to themselves, the birds, if they be experienced, com- 
mence their song. Soon, an answering call is heard. In- 
stantly the decoys cease their song, and send forth their 
sharp call-notes. Soon the curious stranger appears, per- 
haps a fine adult male, full of eagerness for a battle. If this 
be the case the songs are again resumed, and the climax of 
the concert is almost certain to be the capture of the chal- 
lenger. If the visitor be a coy female, the seductive call-notes 


123 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


are continued, and, though the time required may be greater, 
she is nearly as certain to be captured. Callow youngsters 
out for their first exploring trip, are of course the easiest 


Fic. 65. TALrPuT PALM IN BLOSSOM. 


victims. But when the trapper has taken a bird or two 
from this locality he must move on or give up for the day, 


for he will take no more. 
The trapping methods of these people are, of course, 


GEORGETOWN. 129 


very primitive. They know nothing of clap-nets; they laugh 
at the idea of catching birds with an Owl, as practised 
successfully in the North. A black boy will bend his 
gummed wire securely on a likely twig, and he all day on 
his back in the shade, hoping that a bird may light on it. 
Birds to whose capture they are not equal are very apt to 
be “licked”? — stunned by a bullet from a sling-shot — and 
foisted on the unwary purchaser. These unfortunates, of 
course, rarely live more than a day or two. 

No regard is shown for nesting birds or nestlings. Cas- 
siques and Orioles are captured by adjusting a string about 
the mouth of the long pendulous nest, and closing it tightly 
when the bird has entered to hover its eggs. In two instances, 
a black boy was seen to capture the female from her nest, by 
creeping up and dropping his hat over her. 

Some use is made of primitive trap-cages, which are 
baited with plantain or sliced mangoes. ‘Tanagers or 
“sackies ’’ and various Orioles are taken in this manner. 

These simple people have, of course, no knowledge what- 
ever of proper food for insectivorous or frugivorous birds. 
Various fruits, preferably plantain, are used, and it is truly 
surprising how long some individuals will survive on this 
too acid food. Mr. Howie King, Government Agent of the 
Northwest District, actually kept a specimen of the Yellow 
Oriole *” for over seven years on a strictly fruit diet! 

Birds and other creatures were very abundant and tame 
in the Botanical Gardens. Guiana Green Herons”® or 
‘‘ Shypooks ” as the coolies call them, Spur-winged Jacanas” 
and Gallinules * walked here and there, the latter leading 
their dark-hued young over the Regia pads. Small croco- 
diles basked half out of the water, none over three feet in 
length, as abundant as turtles in a northern mill-pond. 
Several huge water buffalo, imported from the East Indies, 
looked strangely out of place in this hemisphere. Butter- 


130 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS, 


Fic. 66. CANAL OF THE CROCODILES. 


GEORGETOWN. 131 


flies were scarce although a great variety of flowers were in 
profusion everywhere. 

April seems to be the height of the breeding season for 
many birds. In one tree we found two wasps’ nests, and 
nests with eggs or young of the following six species of birds; 
the Red-winged Ground Dove,’ the Great and Lesser ™™ 
Kiskadees, White-shouldered Ground Fly-catcher or ‘‘Cotton- 
bird,” * Gray Tody-flycatcher or ‘“‘ Pipitoori’’ ** and Cinereus 
Becard.™ 

Chestnut Cuckoos of two species,” all four Kis- 
kadees,*** *: ™,  Caracaras,* Black-faced Tanagers or 
“Bucktown Sackies,’” “! Woodhewers, Elanias *’ and other 
Flycatchers are a few among many birds which we were 
sure of seeing on every walk, while Anis, both great” and 
small *° were everywhere. 

The Botanical Gardens are ideal for experimental botanical 
work and sugar cane in scores of varieties is being kept under 
observation. It is hard to believe that the delicate grass 
which we see springing up in the ditched fields will grow 
into the lofty and waving stalks of sugar cane. It is ex- 
ceedingly variable and should afford excellent material 
for experimental study. The original yellow-stalked cane 
develops red and purple streaks in many combinations, due 
apparently to difference in soils. Cane sent to Louisiana will, 
within twelve years, produce much larger nodes owing to the 
plant having to fruit in six months instead of eleven or 
twelve. The stalk, however, does not gain correspondingly 
in diameter; so there is no increase in sugar capacity. Tropi- 
cal plants can in many cases adapt themselves to shorter, 
northern summers, but temperate perennials soon die in the 
tropics from exhaustion, lacking their annual period of rest. 

The climatic conditions along the coast of British Guiana 
are peculiar, in that they simulate conditions usually existing 
at an altitude of two or three thousand feet. One result of 


ra2 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


this is seen in the flourishing tree-ferns planted in the Botani- 
cal Gardens. 

Insects were not particularly abundant in Georgetown, 
that is, for a tropical country. One day Mr. Rodway, with 
his accustomed kindness, brought us two very interesting 
chrysalids of the swallow-tailed butterfly, Papilio polydamus, 
illustrating the remarkable color variation in this species. 
Both were found in his yard, a few feet from each other, one 


Fic. 67. YOUNG ELANIA FLYCATCHERS. 


suspended among green leaves and the other on a wooden 
stairway which was painted a brick-red. One of the chrys- 
alids was leaf-green in color while the other was brown with 
brick-red trimmings! 

There was one remarkable exception to the scarcity of 
insects in Georgetown. Late in February, a moth-like 
Homopterus insect, Poeciloptera phalaenoides, was present in 
enormous numbers on the Saman trees which line many of 
the streets. The largest individuals had wings almost an 
inch in length of a light cream color, covered for about half 


GEORGETOWN. 133 


their expanse with two masses of black dots. These were 
the males. The females were wingless and their bodies were 
covered with a long dense cottony secretion. The eggs and 
larve which lined thousands of the twigs were also pro- 
tected by this white material. One could hardly walk 
without crushing these insects, so numerous were they. 
The only birds we observed feeding on them were Anis and 
domestic fowls. 

The middle of April found these insects as abundant as 
ever, still hatching in myriads, but by the 22d of the ronth 
the broods on the main streets seemed to be diminishing, 
although the hordes infesting the trees at the entrance of the 
Botanical Gardens were on the increase. Noticing that there 
seemed to be interesting nodes of variation in the number 
and patterns of the dots on the wings of the males, we set 
a Coolie boy to gathering them for future study and he soon 
had a thousand or more in a jar of alcohol. 


CHAPTER. V; 
STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 


HEN we left New York we had planned to go up the 
Demerara River from Georgetown and spend our time 
on the Essequibo and Potaro. We had the good fortune, 
however, to take the same steamer with Mr. and Mrs. Gaylord 
Wilshire who were paying their annual visit to their two 
large gold concessions. ‘The previous year they had travelled 
over many of the larger rivers and when we heard their glow- 
ing accounts of the northern and western wilderness com- 
pared to the rather thinned out ‘‘ bush” and more travelled 
route of the Demarara, and were asked to join their party in 
going first to the Hoorie Mine in the northwest and then to 
the Aremu Mine in central Guiana, we hesitated not a moment. 
We left the Georgetown stelling, or wharf, at noon on 
March 2d, on the little steamer “‘ Mazaruni” for the long 
coastwise trip to Morawhanna. Leaving the harbor flock 
of Laughing Gulls * behind, we steered straight out to sea 
for several hours before turning to the northwest. The 
water all along the coast is very shallow and is so filled 
with sediment that even in a heavy gale the waves break 
but little. We passed the mouth of the Essequibo, thirty- 
five miles in width, with the two great islands, Wakenaam 
and Leguan, fairly in the centre of the mouth. ‘The night 
was rough and windy and the little tub rolled wildly. 

At five o’clock next morning we were steaming slowly 
between two walls of green which brought vividly to mind 
our Venezuelan trip of last year. A few other plants were 
intermingled with the mangroves, but the solid ranks of the 

134 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 135 


latter were unbroken. The colors were as wonderful as 
ever; the rich dark green on either hand, bright copper 
beneath and azure above. A few hours later we entered 
Mora Passage and here palms began to rear their heads over 
the other foliage. The air was cool and bracing, we breathed 
deeply and watched for the first signs of life. A half dozen 
Muscovy Ducks “ swung past, the giant master of the flock 
in the lead, their white wing mirrors flashing as they flew. 
Two Amazon Parrots rose ahead of us and the shore was 
alive with tiny white moths fluttering over the water. 

Morawhanna is within five miles of the Venezuela bound- 
ary, and politically is important as being the chief Govern- 
ment Station for the Northwest District, and being the 
entrance post for the gold fields of this region. As we tied 
up to the primitive wharf, Indians in their dug-outs or wood- 
skins appeared in numbers, bringing fish, rubber and other 
things for trade to the little Chinese store. Morawhanna itself 
consists of a straggling line of thatched huts extending 
irregularly along the bank and inland between the marshy 
spots. 

A short walk on shore showed the inhabitants to be Indians, 
blacks and half-breeds. Birds were abundant, especially 
Yellow-bellied Callistes,“* Honey Creepers, Tanagers, and 
the four commoner species of Kiskadee Tyrants 10% 10% 104 18, 
A large Skimmer” flew past the boat and later we saw 
several flocks. 

We expected to meet the launch from the Hoorie Mine, but 
as it had not yet arrived, we boarded the steamer again and 
went on with it to the end of its route at Mount Everard. 
We left Morawhanna at half-past ten in the morning and 
reached our destination five hours later. Although all this 
country is low and marshy, yet the White Mangrove and the 
Courida, or Red Mangrove, here give place to a variegated 
forest growth, and we soon saw our first Mora trees,— huge 


136 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Fic. 68. TyprcAL INDIAN HousE AT MORAWHANNA. 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 137 


we thought them, but to be dwarfed by the inland giants of 
our succeeding expeditions. The walls of vegetation were 
seventy or eighty feet in height, draped by vines, while dead 
branches protruded here and there from the water near shore. 
Many Snake-birds* were perched on these snags, from 
which they dropped silently into the water at our approach 
and swam off with body immersed. 

Blue-and-Yellow Macaws*t were common — always as 
usual in multiples of two. We observed them a half dozen 
times in different reaches of the river, four in the first group, 
then eight, two, six, four and two. A trio of American 
Egrets * kept flying ahead of us for several miles, hemmed 
in by the lofty walls of foliage, alighting now and then and 
waiting for the steamer. At last when only ten yards dis- 
tant they rose and floated over our heads. 

Once a splendid Guiana Crested Eagle” flew past and 
alighted on a dead tree, and twice we saw small colonies 
of Yellow *' and Red-backed *” Cassiques nesting in isolated 
Mora trees out in the walter; a new method of protection on 
the part of these intelligent birds. At occasional intervals a 
nesting pair of White-throated Kingbirds *” was seen, but 
no other of the Tyrants which are socommon about houses 
in this region. The event of the day came when we caught 
a flash of white from a Buzzard floating high overhead and 
our stereos showed a King Vulture” circling slowly around, 
craning his wattled head down at us as he drifted past. We 
had never expected to see this bird near the coast and 
indeed we saw no others during our entire stay in Guiana. 

As we steamed past a wind-break we caught a momentary 
glimpse of two wee naked Indian children paddling away 
in a wood-skin while behind them their bronze-skinned 
parents watched us silent'y. 

Mount Everard lies about fifty miles from Morawhanna 
up the Barima River and consists of a ramshackle hotel and 


138 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


several logies — the latter being mere open sheds from whose 
rafters hammocks may be hung. The whole country here- 
abouts Is low, except at this point where two small conical 
hills arise —one on each side of the river — bearing the high- 
sounding names of Mounts Everard and Terminus. The 
forest has been partly cleared from these and we attempted to 
explore the neighboring country. We soon gave it up as the 
underbrush was too thick, and even when we forced a way 


Fic. 69. THREE-YEAR O tps AT Homr IN THEIR WOOD-SKIN. 


through it there was no footing but muddy water. Cow- 
paths led over the ‘“‘mounts’’ which seemed to be composed 
of red, sticky clay. Half way up Mount Everard we found 
an enormous terrestrial ants’ nest, some fifteen feet across, 
bare of vegetation and with well-marked roads, four to six 
inches wide, leading out into the jungle. A little prodding 
with a stick brought out scores of huge-jawed soldiers 
(Atta cephalotes). 

The most interesting birds were the well-named Magpie 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 139 


Tanagers which flashed past now and then. The long, grad- 
uated tail, the glossy black and white plumage and the con- 
spicuous white iris mark this as one of the most striking of 
the Tanagers. The call-note was loud and harsh but the 
tones of those we saw in captivity and of one individual which 
we brought back alive were pleasant and modulated. 

Euphonias, Blue,’ Palm,'* and Silver-beak “® Tanagers 
and Red-underwing Doves" were all nesting close to the 
settlement, while in a good-sized tree whose branches were 
brushing against the “hotel’’ windows were some hundred 
nests of Cassiques — the Red’ and the Yellow-backed ** in 
about equal numbers. When the two were seen fighting, 
the Red-backed seemed invariably to have the better of it. 
The natives here think the different colors mark the two 
Sexes. 

Just before sunset the wharf at Mount Everard began to 
show signs of life. All day it had been deserted, a few small 
flat-bottomed boats, which we came later to know by the 
native name of ballyhoos, being moored idly against the dock; 
but now as the day drew to a close, groups of Indians and 
negroes gathered. We hung over the railing of our boat and 
watched them as lazily and as curiously as they watched us. 
Then the quiet air was rent with a medley of grunts and 
squeals and brays, the cries and shouts of human beings 
rising above all the other sounds, as a large party of men 
appeared escorting one scrawny cow, one lean but energetic 
hog, and finally one donkey, in whose being was concentrated 
all the stubborness to which his race is heir. The problem was 
to load these beasts into one of the waiting ballyhoos. The 
ballyhoo was small, the current was moving it to and fro, and 
the cow and the donkey and the hog were not minded to go 
a-voyaging. As the negro always talks to his beast of burden 
as though it were his intellectual and social equal, so in this 
case the men approached the animals with all manner of 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


140 


‘GUVUAAT INAOW! ‘Of ‘ong 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. I4I!I 


reasonable argument, explaining where they were going and 
the importance of an early start and appealing to all that was 
noble and estimable, emphasizing everything with a choice 
selection of expletives combined with physical force. F inally 
after pushing and prodding the ill-fated cow they succeeded 
in half shoving, half throwing it into the boat. After many 
struggles the loudly indignant hog followed. When at last 
the donkey had been safely embarked we wondered if that 
little craft would ever reach its destination, with so heavy and 
protesting a load: when to our surprise the big black, who had 
been most vociferous and active in the recent mélée, wiped 
his dripping forehead and stood calling “ Possengers! Pos- 
sengers! all aboad’’! with as grand an air as though he 
were the chief steward on a great ocean liner. The “pos- 
sengers’”’ proved to be half a dozen buxom negresses, who 
with many a coy glance and feminine shriek of terror 
allowed the big black proprietor to help them from the dock 
to the boat, now rocking violently beneath the restless feet 
of the animals. 

Finally the ballyhoo moved slowly up stream, bound for a 
distant mine in the far interior, and another boat laden with 
bananas followed. An Indian paddled swiftly past in his 
wood-skin. Then darkness fell as suddenly as the dropping 
of a stage curtain; and we turned away from the river drama 
back to our life on board the “ Mazaruni.” 

While awaiting the dinner bell we slung our hammocks 
along the deck, that through the meal we might know that 
they were swinging gently in the velvet night air, all ready for 
our comfortably tired selves. 

The night was clear and the blacks worked for several 
hours in the moonlight, unloading cargo. Not a mosquito 
came to mar the beauty of the night. Indeed the natives said 
they were never troublesome here at Mount Everard. In our 
hammocks as we rocked to sleep we thought drowsily of the 


142 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


dear Venezuelan wilderness of last year. We were so glad 
to be sleeping again in the open under the canopy of the 
southern sky. At last we felt that we were on the threshold 
of another wilderness. 

At four o’clock in the morning we awoke and heard far off 
through the jungle, the old, familiar howling of the red 
“baboons.” About five a rooster crowed on board and was 
answered by several on shore, and this seemed to awaken a 
black who began singing from his hammock in a logie, when 
a score of others took up the wild refrain and kept it up 
until daylight. With the sudden rush of light came the dis- 
tant bubbling of ‘Twa-twas, those little thick-billed pygmy 
Grosbeaks,“° and the cackling hubbub of the Cassique 
colony. 

Returning to Morawhanna we were made welcome at the 
home of Mr. Howie King the Government Agent, while 
waiting for our Hoorie launch. The government house is 
well built and belonged formerly to Sir Everard im Thurn. It 
is surrounded by a garden which must once have been mag- 
nificent and which Mr. King is attempting to restore, clearing 
away the undergrowth which has long overrun the beautiful 
shrubs and flowering plants. The house is built on the 
extreme southern end of a great island which extends in a 
northwest direction for about fifty miles far into Venezuela 
territory, Mora Passage lying between it and Morawhanna 
proper. Flowers were abundant, attracting many insects 
and these in turn birds of a score or more species. Kiskadees 
were nesting in low Bois Immortelle trees, Yellow-backed 
Cassiques or Bunyahs, in a great saman overhanging the 
house; while in the garden were Seed-eaters of several kinds, 
together with Blue and Palm Tanagers and the beautiful 
Moriche Orioles.”* Guiana House Wrens ”* were nesting 
indoors on the ceiling rafters and under the deep eaves of the 
half veranda, half sitting-room was a beautiful pendent nest 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 143 


of the Feather-toed Swift’* composed entirely of feathery seed 
plumes. It was a straight symmetrical column about three 
inches in diameter and fourteen inches long, suspended from 
the palm thatch, not half a foot from a hanging, open-comb 
wasps’ nest. The upper ten inches of the nest was built and 
occupied just six months ago in September, and a brood of 


Fic. 71. StR EVERARD IM THURN’S HOUSE AT MORAWHANNA. 


two young were reared. Now the birds had returned and were 
preparing to nest again, having already added four inches 
of pure white seed-plumes, easily distinguished from the older, 
browner, weathered portion. ‘They came to the nest every 
hour with a beakful of plumes and pressed them into position 
while fluttering in mid air, evidently utilizing their saliva as a 
cementing substance. In the interims between their visits, 


144 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Hummingbirds,— sometimes two at once — came and filched 
nesting material from the lower end, fraying it out very 
appreciably. Their nests were attached to the lesser stems of 
a dense clump of bamboo in the garden. 

This Swift was common on all the Guiana rivers, hawk- 
ing with Swallows over the water. Seen on the wing it 
appears glossy black with a white throat and collar. 

It was the height of the season of courtship of the Palm 
Tanagers *““* and they were noisy and bold. A caged fe- 
male proved to be a source of. great attraction and several 
wild ones kept coming to the cage. We trapped two 
and they made themselves at home within a few minutes. 
There was considerable variation, some being gray, almost 
a bluish gray, while in others the green was strongly 
dominant. 

The chickens and ducks were taken by two kinds of opos- 
sums, one, large, ill-smelling and living in the bamboos, and 
the other very small and rat-like. Game was abundant here 
and tapirs, Tinamous and Guans were shot for food. The 
mudflats were inhabited by a host of crabs; most of them 
exactly like our little fiddlers, while others were larger and 
blue or yellow in color. 

Sand-flies and mosquitoes were present in small numbers, 
the latter troublesome enough for hammock nets at night, but 
the worst pest hereabouts was the béte-rouge which abounded 
in the grass both at Mount Everard and here. Nowhere 
else did we suffer so much from the fiendish httle beasts. 
Like sea-sickness or an earthquake, béte-rouge is a great 
leveller of mankind, like a common disaster doing more to 
make men “ free and equal” than all the constitutions and 
doctrines ever signed. In a béte-rouge infested region the 
conversation is sooner or later sure to turn upon the sub- 
ject of these little red mites. Everyone you meet has his or 
her particular pet remedy to prescribe. ‘The subject under 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 145 


discussion may be the coolie immigration laws, or the proper 
scientific name for some species of orchid or who is to be 
the next Governor — but some sharp-eyed fellow sufferer is 
certain to detect the guilty look upon one’s face which trans- 
lated into words would be “ My ankles are devoured by béte- 
rouge!’ and then the assembled company begins to discuss 
the topic of really vital interest. 

We tried all the remedies — Scrubb’s ammonia, dry soap, 
wet salt, wet soda, alcohol, resinol ointment, chloroform 
camphor, — to little purpose beyond very temporary relief. 
Finally we reached the stage when good manners were thrown 
to the winds and every victim scratched at will, despite the 
fact that it eventually aggravated the trouble. There was 
developed an individuality in the method so that at long 
distances we were able to recognize one another by the 
characteristic motions of discomfort! 

Then came the discovery of crab-oil, which is an ounce of 
prevention and not a cure. Rubbed on before going out, no 
sane béte-rouge will attack you. Crab-oil is made of the nut 
of the crab-wood tree and it is greasy and sticky and has a 
disagreeable, rancid odor, which is very lasting. One of us 
hinted that it was a question whether the remedy were not 
worse than the disease. She even objected to having bottles 
of crab-oil rolled for safety in packing, in her very limited 
supply of clothing. She was promptly pronounced ‘“ fin- 
nicky ”’ by her “‘ better half ’’ who was righteously indignant 
and surprised at discovering so unexpected a quality in her. 
But then he, more than anyone else, was afflicted with béte- 
rouge; and so could not be expected to see anything at all 
objectionable in the odor of the crab-oil to which he owed so 
much relief. It does unquestionably give relief. Well pro- 
tected with crab-oil one can bid defiance to the annoying little 
pests, which an old gentleman whom we chanced to meet in 
our travels persistently and seriously called ‘‘ béte noir,” 


146 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


under the delusion that that was their proper and very 
appropriate name. 

Mr King’s garden was a constant source of interest be- 
cause of the flowers, the insects and the birds. In the top 
of a dead shrub a good-sized yellow flowered orchid had 
been tied. This, during the last rainy season, had evidently 
dropped seeds, some of which had clung to the branches 
beneath and then sprouted. When we saw them, there 
were twenty or more of these diminutive orchids scattered 
over the shrub, each with four tiny clinging rootlets, a three- 
parted leaflet and in the centre one blossom as big as the 
entire plant, the whole not larger than a shilling. 

Two large species of lizards lived in the garden, the common 
iguana which climbed the trees and fed on leaves and buds, 
and another, called locally Salapenta (Tezus nigro punctatus), 
which included carrion, chicks and even fish in its bill of fare. 
They would now and then dive into asmall pond and appear 
with a small fish in their jaws. 

The last evening of our stay at Mr. King’s we spent sitting 
on the wharf looking out over Mora Passage. The ripples 
died from the wake of the steamer as she vanished around 
a bend on her way back to Georgetown. A cool refreshing 
breeze blew toward us as the sun’s light faded and a dense 
flock of more than a hundred Amazon Parrots flew overhead. 
Our shadows changed from sharp black outlines thrown on 
the water before us to faint gray shapes, moon-cast on the 
crab-wood boards behind. 

The tangle of palms and liana-draped trees across the 
Passage became more indistinct and the brilliant moon- 
light lit up the swirling brown current. An Indian boy 
passed silently in a narrow curiara. We were his friends— 
we had given him sixpence and he was off to the little store 
amid the low thatched huts a few hundred yards down the © 
river, which marked Morawhanna. We knew him only as 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 147 


Frederick, for no white person would ever be told his real 
name — that of some animal or bird —as such disclosure 
is against all Indian custom, from the fear of thereby giving 
others evil power over them. He gave us a quick, shy, 
half smile, and then all light died from his Mongolian features 
and he peered sternly into the darkness ahead. Well had he 


Fic. 72. PALM TANAGER. 


need of fear and caution. We may be sure his purchases 
were made stealthily and his quick return was certain, for 
death watched for him in a hundred places. 

The day before, he had testified against three of his tribe — 
the Caribs — for the murder of his father, and now the stern 
hand of English justice had closed and the chief murderer 
was eating his heart out somewhere in a cell beyond the 


148 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


bend of the river. No more could Frederick mingle with his 
tribe, and on his knees and in tears he had begged Mr. King 
to keep him and shelter him on the Government Island. 
The vendetta would follow him through life and it was 
almost certain he would be killed sooner or later. 

The calm of the evening was perfect, undisturbed by all 
this hidden tragedy. When the moon was well clear of 
the trees, some great frog hidden in the swamp began his 
rhythmical kronk! kronk! kronk! and tiny bats dashed about, 
splashing the surface of the water as they drank or snatched 
floating insects. | 

The yap! yap! of a passing but invisible Skimmer came 
faintly, and the throbbing roll of a second kind of frog rumbled 
out of the dusk across the river. The moonlight became 
ever stronger and now a Kiskadee called sleepily from his 
great untidy nest in the distant village. A sharp whip- 
lash of sound came to.our ears and we knew that a 
Parauque ’° had awakened from his diurnal slumber. An 
answering cry sounded near at hand in the garden and we 
could distinguish the two connected tones. ‘The splash of 
paddles announced the return of the rest of our party as an 
Indian woman began a droning song from the fire before 
her hut a few yards away. 

Impatient as we were to get into the real “bush,” the 
days at Morawhanna were delightful. From Mr. King we 
learned a great deal about England’s government of this 
out-of-the-world colony. We were especially mterested in 
the protection of the indentured coolie. In the first place 
the coolie labor market is never allowed to become over- 
crowded. Each employer sends in an order for the exact 
number of workmen which he requires, so that the supply 
brought over is never greater than the demand. ‘The coolie 
gets free passage from India to South America, and is 
guaranteed work at a minimum wage of a shilling a day, 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 149 


including his food. On his arrival the immigration agent 
assigns him to a certain estate, where his term of indenture 
is five years, his wage being increased as his capacity for work 
becomes greater. During his term of service he can leave 
the estate only by permission, and he must never be found 
at large without his pass book. 

At the end of five years the coolie is free to work where he 
pleases, or to take up a grant of land of his own. After five 
years more of residence he may return to India free of charge 
if he so wishes.. As the coolie is very thrifty and can live 
on threepence a day, his menu being rice and water, at the 
expiration of his ten years, in addition to having earned his 
living and supported his family, he has often saved up as 
much as two thousand dollars. 

Throughout his term of indenture the English government 
looks after him. He always has good medical care free, and 
the law watches over him with scrupulous vigilance, seeing 
that he is justly treated by his employer, and that no advan- 
tage is taken of his ignorance and inexperience. When the 
coolie leaves India he, of course, loses caste, but as they all fall 
proportionately, each moving down one in the social scale, 
a proper balance is preserved. ‘The coolie returning to India, 
however, finds himself a disgraced outcast. To regain his 
position in society he must pay large sums of money to the 
priests; and so it is that he returns to his native land only 
to be robbed of his hard-earned savings, often returning to 
South America as a re-indentured man, to start life again. 
In order to discourage his return to India, the government 
offers him the money equivalent to his return passage. Many 
of the coolies take advantage of this and make South America 
their permanent home, taking up grants of their own and 
living in greater peace and prosperity than would ever have 
been possible for them in India. 

The population of Morawhanna is composed of coolies, 


I50 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Indians and blacks, who look to the magistrate as a sort of 
all powerful father to whom they bring troubles of every 
conceivable kind. 

As we were sitting at breakfast one day an aged coolie man 
was seen hanging around the door. He must see Mr. King 
on a most important matter, which proved to be a delicate 
one indeed. His wife had fallen in love with another man and 
what was he to do? Such troubles are very common among 
the coolies. Instead of avenging himself upon the man who 
dared to alienate his wife’s affections, the coolie invariably 
murders his wife, the favorite method being to chop her up 
“particularly small.”’ 

In this instance the wife was young and good looking, and 
her grievance was that her husband expected her to assume 
the entire support of him and his family, and she declared 
she would rather die than go back to him. The only solu- 
tion of the problem was to hurry the woman off on the after- 
noon boat to Georgetown, in order to save her from murder 
and her husband from execution. 

They are all very fond of bringing their wrongs into court. 
An irate Indian woman will appear, bringing a charge against 
the dressmaker who has made her wedding dress too short. 
Dress of any description is the most recent of acquisitions 
with the Indian woman, but having acquired it she intends 
that her wedding gown shall fulfill all the requirements of 
Dame Fashion, so far as she knows them. 

The gown in question has been brought into court as 
incontrovertible evidence. Should she not put it on and 
prove to the magistrate, who cries in despair that he knows 
nothing of the proper length of wedding gowns and calls 
in another dressmaker for expert opinion. ‘The two dress- 
makers stand together and the case is dismissed. ‘This is 
quoted to show the infinite patience with which the magis- 
trate treats each case, however trivial. 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. I5I 


The commissioner of health brings a charge against a coolie 
man, on the ground that he has allowed the drains near his 
hut to become clogged and so endangered the Public Health. 
Mr. King reads the indictment in impressive, magisterial 
tones, accusing the offender of having permitted his drains 
to become foul. Foul is evidently the one word which con- 
veys any meaning to the coolie, who exclaims in a tone of 
relief that he has never kept any “fowls”! In British 
Guiana the arm of the law must have a sense of humor as well 
as of justice! 

We often wondered what was going on behind the impas- 
sive face of little Frederick. Did he live in constant terror 
or did he sometimes forget it all in the light-hearted pleasure 
of achild? The man convicted of his father’s murder was a 
peaiman — or medicine man, who is held in great awe and 
reverence by his tribe. So Frederick’s betrayal was doubly 
criminal in the eyes of the superstitious Indians. 

Frederick had been brought down to Morawhanna at 
Christmas — a little naked savage knowing not a word of 
English. When at a loss for a word he always fell back 
upon the civil “ Sir’? which Mr. King had taught him. As 
white women were rare in Morawhanna he had never learned 
the feminine of “‘ Sir.’”’ It was very amusing to see him serv- 
ing at table, going all around asking with great dignity, 
“What will you have, Suh?” regardless of the sex of the guest. 
Mr. King had taught him to knock before entering a room. 
He was childishly delighted with the new accomplishment 
and knocked on both entering and leaving the room. We 
discovered that he had spent our sixpence on a belt which 
it seems was the desire of his heart — already so sophisti- 
cated ! 

The dazed stoicism of the convicted Indian was infinitely 
pathetic to us. This terrible thing called the Law is so 
incomprehensible to him. He cannot understand it. When 


152 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


a convicted comrade is taken down to Georgetown to execu- 
tion, his friends and family realize only that he has gone 
away in a boat to some mysterious place from which he never 
returns. As far as the moral effect of an execution is con- 
cerned, there is none. 


Fic. 73. FREDERICK, THE CARIB INDIAN Boy. 


Into the absolutely natural life of the Indian, with the 
simple and perfectly comprehended tribal laws, has come so 
much that is confusing; — the new religion, the relations of 
the laborer to the employer, the wearing of clothes and the 
strange and powerful law. The Indian is a creature of 
the present moment, instantly acting upon every desire, 
working when he wishes to work, and quietly dropping 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 153 


all work and departing when he so desires. What can 
he — the creature of Nature — know of all this puzzling 
civilization ? 


At noon on March 6th we embarked on the three days’ 
tent-boat journey from Morawhanna to Hoorie Mine. A 
thirty-foot launch was the motor power and alongside this 
the big tent-boat was lashed, while several Indians hitched 
their wood-skins behind as boys hitch sleds to a passing 
sleigh. 

The baggage was stored fore and aft and, perched on a pile 
in the bow, we prepared for our first real day of observation 
along the rivers of the Northwest. We retraced our way 
northward through Mora Passage, frightening as we went, 
a flock of seven Scarlet Ibises.7”7. They kept close together 
and were evidently a single family, as two were in fully 
adult plumage, while the others were only three quarters 
grown, and feathered wholly in brown and white. 

About three o’clock in the afternoon we reached the Waini 
River, but instead of turning toward the mouth and the 
open ocean which we could see to the northwest, we steered 
eastward up stream. Although the outlet of several large 
rivers, the Waini, in its lower reaches, is little more than a 
great salt water tidal inlet, or cafio. 

At Mora Passage the Waini is about two miles wide and 
through the choppy waters of the falling tide we steered 
straight across to the north shore. Between the waters of 
this river and the ocean extends a long narrow strip of marshy 
mangrove, for at least forty miles. Both the White and the 
Red Mangrove are found here, the latter predominating, and 
this is the breeding sanctuary of the hosts of birds which haunt 
the mud-flats at low tide and fill the trees with a gorgeous 
display of color when the feeding grounds are covered at 
high tide. 


154 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


For the next three hours we were enchanted by a constantly 
changing panorama of bird life, which in extent and variety 
can seldom be equalled elsewhere. 

While crossing the Waini several Swallow-tailed Kites * 
soared screaming overhead, occasionally swooping past for a 
nearer look at us. As we skirted the great mangrove forest, 
birds flew up ahead, few at first but in constantly increasing 
numbers, until several hundred were in sight at once. They 
showed little fear and were apparently content to vibrate 
slowly along between launch and shore, accompanying us for 
fifteen or twenty miles. 

By far the greater number were Little Blue Herons,* the 
pure white immature and the slaty blue adults being equally 
numerous. The latter were very inconspicuous among the 
foliage, while the former stood out like marble statues against 
green velvet. The coloring showed great asymmetrical varia- 
tion, and one young bird with a single blue feather in the 
right wing was so tame that it kept almost abreast of our 
flotilla. The irregularity of moult resulted in most remark- 
able patterns, as in several birds, each of which had one white 
and one bluish wing. 

Half a dozen Yellow-crowned Night Herons * were seen 
and twenty or thirty of the illnamed Louisianas.* A few 
Great-billed Terns * accompanied the herons and later in the 
afternoon we began flushing Snowy Egrets * in ever increas- 
ing numbers. No American Egrets were seen. All along the 
coast were small flocks of Scarlet Ibises,” from three to 
thirty in number, and in an hour we had driven together no 
less than four hundred. The majority were full plumaged 
birds clad in burning vermilion, but many were young in 
moult. We secured a young female in an interesting con- 
dition of moult. In the stomach were found the two chelze 
or claws of a small crustacean, each about one-third of an 
inch in length. The wings were wholly of the immature 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 155 


brown, except for one tiny under-edge covert in the right 
wing. The back, lower breast and under tail-coverts were 
fairly scarlet and active moult was in progress on the head 
and neck. 

We know that in captivity these birds fade out, usually in 
a single moult, from the most vivid scarlet to a pale salmon 
hue, but as to the cause we are still in the dark. The same 
is true of American Flamingos and Spoonbills. During this 
trip we made certain of a fact which helps slightly to clear 
this problem — this being that Scarlet Ibises fade as quickly 
and completely when in captivity in their native country as in 
the north. This is confirmed by many birds kept formerly 
in Georgetown and also on the Island of Marajo at the mouth 
of the Amazon. 

We have noticed an interesting fact in regard to this fading 
out of birds in captivity. Whether the salmon tints appear 
in the first moult, or more gradually in several, the lesser 
wing-coverts and the upper and under tail-coverts are the 
last to loose the scarlet color, retaining it sometimes for five 
or six years. ‘These feathers in the nearly related but pale 
Roseate Spoonbill are those which are normally scarlet, and 
this resemblance may be more than a coincidence. 

About four o'clock we were surprised to see a large black 
and white bird with long gray beak and red legs fly up from 
a mud-flat ahead and swing outward and around us. The 
glasses showed a Maguari Stork ” in full breeding color; even 
the red caruncles around the eye and the long, filmy neck 
feathers being visible. We had never expected to see the 
bird away from the pampas of the interior and the sight of 
the splendid Stork was most exciting. It is almost as large 
as the Jabiru, white with black wings, scapulars and tail and 
is one of the most picturesque of the larger waders. 

We have had a pair of these birds alive for some time and 
have observed a curious thing about the tail. The real tail- 


156 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


feathers are forked, swallow-like, while the intervening space 
is filled up with the long, stiff under tail-coverts. In flight 
the whole are spread, making a parti-colored fan of some 
eighteen feathers instead of the usual six pairs. ‘These under 
tail-coverts are a full inch longer than the regular tail feathers 
and seem to be usurping their function. 

Two old friends of northern waters appeared in small 
numbers, Ospreys ” circling about high in the air with now 
and then a meteor-like dive, while Spotted Sandpipers ” 
looped from one headland to another ahead of us. 

At half-past four in the afternoon we had our first sight of 
the great flocks of birds which seem characteristic of this 
season. Quite high in air, clear of the tops of the tallest 
trees we saw a black cloud of birds approaching. We soon 
made them out to be Greater Anis,” or as the natives called 
them ‘‘ Big Witch” or “ Jumbie Birds.’”’ When first seen 
they were in a dense, compact mass headed straight toward us. 

Their flight was uniform, each bird giving three to six 
flaps and then sailing ahead for several seconds. Hundreds 
doing this at once made the sight a most striking one, while 
it was enhanced by their long, wedge-shaped tails, high arched 
beaks, bright yellow eyes, and the iridescence of their dark 
plumage as the slanting rays of the sun struck them. We 
counted up to a thousand in the van and then gave up — there 
were at the very least four thousand birds in the flock. 

The approach of the puffing launch and our great escort 
of Ibises and Herons disconcerted them and the entire com- 
pany broke up, most of them descending, turning on their 
course and fleeing ahead of us for several miles. Their 
mode of flight changed completely, the birds flying close to 
the water, barely skimming its surface and swinging up every 
few yards to alight on a low branch. 

A piece of wood thrown among a mass of them would cause 
great dismay, and they dashed down into the nearest foliage 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 157 


as if a Hawk had appeared. Little by little they drifted past, 
flying rapidly near shore, and continuing in the direction which 
they had originally chosen. A few of the birds were moulting, 
but by far the greater number were in perfect plumage. 

The flock had the appearance of being on some sort of 
migration rather than assembling at a nightly roost. About 
Georgetown and the settlements and clearings in general, 
this Greater Ani was much rarer then the small Smooth- 
billed species,*® twenty of the latter being seen to one of 
the former. ‘These aberrant Cuckoos are most interesting 
birds and several females are said to combine, building a 
single hollow nest of sticks in which the eggs are hatched. 

Hardly had the last Ani passed out of sight when a second 
cloud of birds appeared far ahead, and before we had ap- 
proached near enough to identify them a shrill chorus came 
to our ears; a horde of Blue-headed Parrots “ were on their 
way up the coast. They behaved in much the same way 
as the Anis, but were more numerous: an estimate far below 
the truth gave eight thousand. Closely massed though most 
of them were, yet the eternal two and two formation of the 
tribe of Parrots was never lost, and even when the vanguard, 
terrified by our puffing launch, wheeled and dashed back 
through the ranks behind, each Parrot flew always close to 
its mate. Once later on, when only a few scores were left 
near us, we saw several perched in a bare tree close to a 
Hawk, like a Sparrow Hawk in size, but neither species paid 
any attention to the other’s presence. 

The Parrots screamed unceasingly and near the main body 
the noise was terrific —a shrill deafening roar, as from a 
dozen factory whistles. Until long after dark they flew 
back and forth around us, sometimes attempting to alight 
in a tree and falling from branch to branch almost to the 
water, before securing a foot or beak-hold. For several 
hours perfect pandemonium reigned around us. 


158 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS, 


Whether these two phenomena of flocking birds indicated 
merely a nightly roosting habit or an actual, more or less 
local migration, they were of the greatest interest, and 
spectacular in the extreme. Our opinion inclines decidedly 
toward the latter theory, as they both differed greatly from 
the regular roosting flights which we observed elsewhere. 

Long after dark, about nine o’clock, in the faint light 
of the cloud-dimmed moon, we caught glimpses of occasional 
ghostly forms flitting silently past, and when we flashed our 
powerful electric light upon them, the feathered ghosts would 
emit frightened squawks; revealed as Snowy Egrets or young 
Blue Herons. Here and there among the mangroves, large 
lightning bugs flashed. At last we rolled up in our blankets 
and slept on the thwarts, to dream of the unnumbered legions 
of Anis and Parrots far off behind us in the blackness of the 
mangrove jungle. 

In a soft steady rain we steamed all next morning up the 
Waini, seeing few signs of life, except three Toucans which 
flew across at Barrimani Police Station. At noon we reached 
Farnum’s at the junction of the Waini and Barama rivers. 
Mr. and Mrs. Farnum live in a small house perched on the 
very summit of a symmetrically rounded hill — the first 
elevation we had seen in this flat region. There is a tiny 
store at the foot of the hill, and a saw-mill, and in the 
grass of the clearing, béte-rouge lie in patient wait for the 
passer-by. Mrs. Farnum told us that “‘ Hummingbirds” 
flew into the peaked roof of the house almost every day and 
died. The natives call by this name all the species of Honey 
Creepers, and a Yellow-winged ** male was picked up from 
the floor during our visit. 

We found later that this was such a common occurrence 
that in almost all the houses there were instruments for 
getting rid of the bewildered, fluttering birds. The more 
cruel used only a long stick with which the birds were struck 


UTANT VAVAVG AHL NO Ivod-INaL X10 ‘VL ‘Ol 


159 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 


160 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


down, but the more humanely inclined had nets on the end 
of long poles. As many as seven Honey Creepers are occa- 
sionally entrapped at one time. ‘They do not seem to know 
how to fly toward light and liberty after getting up among 
the dark rafters. 

The fauna of this exceedingly marshy region was different 
from that higher up. Agoutis and pacas are abundant but 
capybaras do not come this side of Barramanni Police Sta- 
tion. Deer and peccaries are very rare. Jaguars are unknown 
but ocelots are occasionally found, a young one having been 
killed under the house at Christmas. It lived in a burrow 
and took a chicken each night until it was killed. 

Many fish were seen playing about the tent-boat as it 
was tied to the wharf, and among others were scores of small 
pipe-fish. Mr. Crandall caught a small round sun-fish-like 
form, brilliantly colored and with a most wicked looking 
set of triangular teeth. As he was about to take the fish 
off the hook it deliberately twisted itself in the direction of 
his hand and bit his finger, taking a piece out with one snip 
of its four razor-like incisors. This was our introduction 
to the famous Perai or Carib Fish (Serrasalmo scapularis) 
which seems to fear nothing, man, crocodile or fish, and a 
school of which can disable any creature in a very short time. 

At this point we left the Waini and turned off into the 
Barama. We had followed the Waini day and night for 
about sixty miles, until, from a stream of two miles or more 
in width, it had narrowed to little more then one hundred 
yards. 

We left Farnum’s at three in the afternoon and steamed 
slowly up the Barama for twelve hours, tying up to the bank 
from three to seven in the early morning. We slept but 
little, for the strange wonderland which opened up before us. 
At nine o’clock the full moon rose and the beauty of the 
wilderness became indescribable. In the north —along the 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. I61 


rivers of the Canadian forest — the spruces and firs are 
clean-trunked, tapering to tall, isolated, symmetrical sum- 
mits. Here the very opposite conditions exist; solid massive 
walls of black foliage, with almost never a glimpse of trunk 
and bark. Most characteristic are the long, slender bush- 
ropes or lianas. In the forest they are thick, gnarled and 
knotted; there we get the vivid feeling of serpentine struggles 
in the terribly slow but none the less remorseless striving for 
light and air, but along the rivers the lianas are pendent 
threads or cables — straight as plummets and often a hundred 
feet in length. These give a decorative aspect to the scene 
unlike any other type of forest — temperate or northern. 

In the moonlight the appearance of the walls of foliage 
is like painted scenery. Their blackness and impenetrability 
give a feeling of flatness and the summit outlines are crudely 
regular. The dominant sound at night along the Barama 
was a sweet tinkling as of tiny bells, all in unison and har- 
mony, but with a range of at least four half-tones. The 
tree-toads clinging here and there to leaves and flowers 
throughout the jungle fill this whole region with the melody 
of their chimes; striking the minutes as if with a thousand 
tiny anvils, and only too often leading some enemy to their 
hiding places. 

We woke at early dusk and climbing out upon the bow 
of the tent-boat watched the coming of the tropical day. 
The medley of fairy bells was still bravely ringing, but as the 
dawn approached, the little nocturnal musicians ceased 
tolling and the chorus died out with a few faint, final tinkles. 
Six o’clock, and the sunshine upon the tree-tops brought a 
burst of sound from the Woodhewers, a succession of twelve 
to twenty loud, ringing tones in a rapidly descending scale — 
Canyon Wren-like and taken up continuously from far and 
near. The very tang and crispness of the early dawn 
seemed to inspire the quality of their notes. 


162 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS, 


As soon as it was light, Swallows were seen in numbers, 
small, dark steel-blue in color with a striking band of white 
across the breast. These beautiful Banded Swallows ™ 
kept at first to two levels in the air; close to the water, fairly 
skimming its surface, and high up above the tallest trees — 
marking I suppose the early morning distribution of gnats 
and other insects. Most delicate and fairy-like they appeared 
when perched on some great orchid-hung dead branch pro- 
truding from the water. 


Fic. 75. INDIAN Boys In DUG-OUT. 


We can find no adjectives to express the beauty and calm 
of the cool, early morning on these tropical rivers. Myriads 
— untold myriads — of leaves and branches surround us like 
the lofty walls of a canyon. We have used the words wall in 
this connection many times and no other word seems to be so 
suitable. All sense of flatness is lost in the light of the dawn; 
and instead we see these living walls now as infinitely softened; 
but still the eye cannot penetrate the intricate tangle. Nota 
breath of air stirs the smallest leaf. It is like the fairy river 


STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 163 


of an enchanted country — all Nature quiet and resting — 
with only the brown current ever slipping silently past, here 
and there foam-flecked or bearing some tiny aquatic plant 
with its rosette of downy leaves. 

Then, — the lush tropical nature rushing ever to extremes 
— comes a deluge of virile life upon the scene. A great fish 
leaps far upward, shattering the surface, pursued by a fierce, 
brown-coated otter,-almost as large asaman. A half dozen 
green Parrots throb screaming past in pairs; two big Red- 
breasted King-fishers™ spring from their perch and come 
leaping toward us through the air, suddenly wheeling up 
almost in a somersault and down like two meteors into the 
water. 

We leave our bushy moorings at last and keep on up the 
‘Yiver with the tide, passing the English mission of Father 
Carey-Elwis, which, like Farnum’s, is built on a hill, iso- 
lated amid the great expanse of flat marshy jungle. A dozen 
little naked Indian lads shriek in sheer excitement and rush 
down to the water’s edge to watch us pass, peering fearfully 
out from behind trees like little gnomes. 

From here on butterflies became very abundant; many 
large Yellows and Oranges and Morphos of two kinds, one 
altogether iridescent blue, the other blue and black. As 
the little vocal messages of the tree-frogs are carried far and 
wide through the jungle at night, so in the sunshine the 
morphos, like heliographs of azure, flash silently from bend 
to bend of the river. Conspicuous among the great Mora 
and Purple-heart trees were the white-barked Silk Cottons. 
Large yellow tubular blossoms and masses of purple pea 
blooms tint the trees here and there. 

The Indians along the river were catching two kinds of 
fish; one a silvery mullet about six inches long called Bashew, 
and a catfish of the same size. The latter was most for- 
midable in appearance but actually harmless. Four slender 


164 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


barbels of medium size depended from the lower jaw, while 
two pigmented ones extended forward from the upper jaw 
and were so long that when pressed back they reached to 
the tail. 

Rain fell irregularly during the day, but so gently and so 
softly that we hardly knew when it began and when it ended. 
It never chilled but rather refreshed. About noon a third 
migrational flocking of birds was noticed; seventy-two large 
South American Black Hawks” circling slowly around, 
setting their wings after a while and sailing off to the west 
as one bird. | 

The action and reaction among the vegetation was often as 
striking as among more active organisms. Where parasitic 
aérial roots had descended seventy or eighty feet and touched 
the water near shore, vines had somehow managed to reach 
out and throw a tendril about the roots, take hold and climb 
circle upon circle to the top. ‘The palm trees alone of all the 
forest growth seemed universally free from parasitic plants 
and climbing vines. 

Above the mission, coincident with the increase of butter- 
flies and the appearance of occasional sand-banks, palm 
trees disappeared without apparent reason. ‘The river nar- 
rowed as we ascended until it was only fifty yards across and 
the bends increased in angle and number. Now and then 
we passed a cut-off where the stream had cut through one of 
its own bends and made a new bed for itself. 

A small opening in the wall of verdure was hailed as Hoorie 
Creek and, dropping behind the launch, we were towed a 
mile or more up its tortuous length, now and then running 
aground or rather “ atree,”’ as it was only thirty feet wide and 
as sinuous as a serpent. We tied fast to a big overhanging 
tree which marked the end of our journey by water and, all 
excitement, leaped ashore. 


CHAPTER VI. 
A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 


W* loaded our tin canisters, clothing bags, guns and 
cameras on a cart which was waiting and set out along 
the bush trail, three and a half miles to the gold mine. The 
trail led through a great swampy forest with a clear brook 
occasionally crossing it, and for the sake of the wagon which 
had to transport all supplies, it was corduroyed in the worst 
places with small saplings or quartered trunks. We had all 
donned cheap tennis shoes which proved on this and all later 
occasions to be perfect footwear for the tropics. The rubber 
soles allow one to obtain sure footing in slippery places and a 
wetting matters nothing. If one walks far enough the shoes 
dry on one’s feet, or at camp a new pair may be slipped on in 
a moment and next day the old ones are none the worse for 
the soaking. Here snake-proof and water-proof shoes are as 
useless as they are uncomfortable. 

It was amusing to see how quickly the regard for mud and 
water left even those of our party who were taking their first 
dip into the real “ bush.” For the first few yards all picked 
their way carefully. There was even a pair of storm rubbers 
leaving its checkered print on the forest mould! ‘Then some 
one stepped on the loose end of a corduroy sapling which 
rose in air and fell with a sharp spat. Everyone dodged the 
shower of mud and straightway went over ankles in water. 
The cool fluid trickled between our toes and we all laughed 
with relief. The rubbers found an early grave in the mud- 
hole and we all strode happily along, wishing we had a hun- 


dred eyes, to see all that was going on around and above us. 
165 


166 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Fic. 76. CrossInc A STREAM ON THE HooRIE JUNGLE RoapD. 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 167 


A pertiect medley of calls and cries came from the tree-tops 
high overhead as we tramped along. In places the trees 
were magnificent, looking like a maze of columns in some 
great cathedral, roofed over with a lofty dome of foliage. 
On this first walk the final impression was of a host of 
strange sights and sounds, a few of which: we were able 
to disentangle on succeeding days. We had poured over 
Waterton, Schomburgk and Bates but we realized anew the 
utter futility of trying to reconstruct with pen and ink the 
grandeur and beauty, and forever and always the mystery, 
of a tropical forest. 

Then from the heart of the wilderness we came suddenly 
upon man’s handiwork; the tiny, twenty acre clearing of 
the gold mine. On the outskirts of the forest were the frail, 
frond-roofed shelters which marked the homes of the Indians 
and the rough mud and thatch huts of the black laborers. A 
dam was thrown across the narrow valley and on the rim of 
the jungle lake thus made, was the powerful electric engine. 
This great thing of vibrating wheels and pistons seemed 
strangely out of place in the wilderness. As we watched, it 
seemed to take on a semblance of dull life. Stolid-faced, 
naked Indians fed it vast quantities of cord wood, and in return 
it sucked up a great pipeful of water from the lake. The 
pipe lay quietly on trestles, winding up and around a low 
hill out of sight, giving no hint of the terrific rush of water 
within. 

Following the pipe line we turn a sudden corner on the 
hill-top and the heart of the clearing lies at our feet. At the 
end of the pipe, far below, a man stands, barely able to guide 
and shift the mighty spout of water which gushes forth. 
Half the hill has been torn away by the irresistible stream, 
which shoots upward in a majestic column and dashes with 
a roar against the cliff of clay and rubble. The ever-widen- 
ing gorge which the water has eaten into the hill glows in 


168 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the sunlight with bright-colored strata. On each side the 
red clay is dominant, while between runs the strip of pale 
gray which holds the precious nuggets. 


Fic. 77. THE WILDERNESS TRAIL. 


It is an ochreous clay carrying free gold. The rock is 
in place and perfectly decomposed to a depth of seventy-five 
or one hundred feet. This decomposition is the result of 
the constant infiltration of warm rains carrying carbonic 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 169 


acid and humous acids from the rapidly decaying tropical 
vegetation. Through the clay are scattered nodules of im- 
pure limonite. 

In a tumbling, falling mass the muddy water washes back 
upon its path, confined in a trough under the pipe, and as it 
goes it gives up its yellow burden. As the grains and nuggets 
drop to the bottom they touch the mercury and behold! to 
the eye they are no longer gold but silver! 

As we had been impressed by the grandeur of the forest, 
so we now began to see the romance of the wonderful gold 
deep hidden beneath the centuries of jungle growth. Gold, 
which we had known only in form of coin or ring, now 
assumed a new beauty and meaning. Here, amid the great 
trees, the beautiful birds and insects, the Indians as yet 
unspoiled by civilization, one could thoroughly enjoy such 
“money-making.”’ One hears of gold mines all one’s life, 
but until one actually sees the metal taken from its resting 
place where it has laid since the earth was young, the word 
means but little. 

Beyond the golden gorge with the roaring “little giant”’ 
ever filling it with spray, was a second hill topped with the 
bungalow which we were to call home. Beyond this the 
jungle began again. 

After a delicious shower-bath we slung our hammocks on 
the veranda and sat on the hillside in the moonlight for an 
hour or more, watching the night shift at work, one or two 
men guiding the stream beneath flickering arc-lights, others 
puddling the down rushing torrent. Just beneath us in the 
dark shadow of a bush lay the coolie night watchman, with 
the inscrutable face of his race, keeping watch over the long, 
snaky flume, at the bottom of which the quicksilver was 
ever engulfing the precious metal. 

Later we slept the dreamless hammock sleep of the tropics, 
lulled by the dull droning roar of the water dashing against 


170 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the clay —a sound which echoed through the jungle and 
gained in volume until we drowsily knew we were listening to 
the howling of the red baboons. Even this invasion of man 
merged harmoniously with the sounds of the wilderness. 


LIFE ABOUT THE BUNGALOW. 


We remained at Hoorie just seven days — only long enough 
to begin to look beneath the surface and realize what a 
veritable wonderland it was for scientist or nature lover. 

On the last day of our stay we wrote in our journal; 
‘““Hoorie is a perfect health resort; temperature good *; no 
mosquitoes; food excellent; splendid place for laboratory 
work; interesting insect life superabundant; birds and _liz- 
ards abundant; snakes rare; perai, electric eels and manatees 
in the creek; peccary, deer, red howlers, armadillos, sloths 
and ant-eaters within short distance of bungalow.’”’ What 
more could be asked ? 

The bungalow was a well-built house with wide veranda, 
perched on the cleared summit of a low hill sloping 
evenly in all directions; the thick bush and shrubby under- 
growth beginning about one hundred feet down the hillside. 

We shall not attempt to describe or even mention the many 
varieties of creatures which haunted the clearing, but leaving 
these for our scientific reports, we shall speak only of those 
which are especially interesting. 

When one enters a vast forested wilderness such as this, 
and makes a good-sized clearing, the inmates of the forest 
are bound to be affected. The most timid ones flee at the 


* The average daily temperature during our stay was as follows : 


6.30 A.M. 68° 2.00 P.M. or 
7-30 7 5-00 74° 
8.00 re 7.00 730 
10.00 76° 9.30 Dh tes 


12,00 By his 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. Lit 


first stroke of the axe; others, swayed by curiosity, return 
again and again to watch the interlopers. A third class, 
learning somehow of the new settlement, come post haste 
and make themselves at home. These are chiefly birds, 
which, seldom or never found living in the heart of the jungle, 
are as keen as Vultures to spy out a new clearing. They 
must follow the canoes and trail, else it is impossible to 
imagine how they learn of new outposts —whether a simple 
Indian hammock shelter and cassava field, or a great com- 
mercial undertaking such as this gold mine. 

To begin with the birds, the Hoorie clearing possessed 
two pairs of Blue,” three pairs of Palm, and five pairs of 
Silverbeak '” Tanagers, besides six Blue-backed Seedeaters."" 
None of these are forest birds and all nest in brushy places. 

The Blue Tanagers are clad in delicate, varying shades of 
pale blue; the Palm Tanagers in dull olive green, but both 
make up in noisy sibilant cries what they lack in color. The 
Silverbeaks are beautiful, shading from rich wine color to 
black, and with conspicuous silvery blue beaks. The little 
Seedeaters were the most familiar birds about the bungalow, 
coming to the steps to feed on fallen seeds. 

One of the first things which caught our eye were several 
brilliantly iridescent green birds, insect-catching, among the 
brush near the house. These were Paradise Jacamars,” 
and they had their homes in the clay banks of the rivulets, 
deep buried in the narrow valleys which abounded in the 
forest. 

Each bird had two or more favorite twigs. When bug- 
hunting flagged at one post they flew with a long swoop to the 
second point of vantage. Our assistant, Crandall, observing 
this, laid a limed twig across the lookout perch and in a short 
time had caught two male birds. Their mates called loudly 
for a time, then disappeared. Before night both had returned 
with new mates, which we left in peace. 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Be 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. E73 


They were tame and allowed us to approach within eight 
or ten feet before flying to their alternate perches. Their 
feet are small and weak and they have a hunched up look 
as they perch in wait, turning the head rapidly in every 
direction and now and then swooping like a flash after some 
tiny insect, engulfing it with a loud snap of the mandibles. 
Their call-note is a sharp, repeated pip! pip! pip! pip! 

These birds welcome the clearing, as it means an increased 
supply of insect food. They learn the value even of the 
opening made by the fall of a single tree deep in the jungle, 
and here and elsewhere we noticed that a single pair of Jaca- 
~ mars would keep busy day after day in the patch of sun- 
light let in by the death of some forest giant. Jacamars 
form a rather compact group of some twenty species; in 
habit like Flycatchers; in appearance and nest like King- 
fishers, but in structure more c'osely related to Toucans and 
Woodpeckers. 

Even in the short time which we spent at Hoorie we learned 
to expect a regular daily movement on the part of many of 
the birds. Early each morning a flock of about a dozen 
splendid Jays worked slowly around the edge of the clearing, 
at last disappearing behind the bungalow into the woods. 
In the north this would not be an unusual sight, but it must 
be remembered that members of the Jay family, like the 
Wood Warblers, are rarely seen in the tropics. Crows and 
Ravens are entirely absent from South America, and but two 
species of Jays find their way into British Guiana. 

Our Hoorie birds were Lavender Jays ™ and although so 
far from the home of their family they were no whit the less 
Jay-like. They constantly hailed each other with a varied 
vocabulary of harsh cries and calls, and now and then held 
a morsel of food between the toes and pounded it vigorously. 
They flapped but seldom, passing with short sailing flights 
from branch to branch not far from the ground. 


174 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


At night they returned rather more rapidly — less absorbed 
in feeding — probably to some roosting place of which they 
alone knew. With them, night and morning, were a few 
Red-backed Bunyahs or Cassiques,’” early nesters from the 
colony at the dam, of which more anon. The two species 
seemed to associate closely, although it was evident that it 
was the Bunyahs which had taken up with the sturdy pioneers 
from the North. 

A short distance away from the bungalow a huge Mora 
stood in the forest looking down on all the trees around. 
The lightning bolt which had torn off its bark and killed it, 
had also consumed its dense clothing of parasitic vines and 
bush-ropes. So now it stood with naked, clean wood high 
above the sea of foliage, and within a day after our arrival we 
had christened it the Toucan Mora. 

In the evening, about on the stroke of seven, the first comers 
would arrive—a trio of Black-banded Aracaris ** which 
alight and preen their feathers. These may remain quiet for 
about twenty minutes, but more often take to flight at the 
approach of a screaming flock of eight or ten Mealy Amazon 
Parrots which scatter over the branches. But the other 
species of Toucans are now awake and soon the Parrots are 
in turn driven off, and four or five big-billed fellows usurp 
the dead Mora and sun themselves or call loudly to the Vul- 
tures swinging high overhead. ‘There are two species of these 
larger Toucans, the Red-billed ** and the Sulphur and White- 
breasted,’ and they seem to live together amicably, but war 
with the small Aracaris. The notes of the Red-billed Toucans 
are like the yapping of a puppy, uttered in pairs and differ- 
ing slightly, thus, yap! yip! yap! yip! The great mandibles 
are opened and thrown upward at each utterance. The 
brilliant white-breasted birds call loudly kok! kiok! in a high, 
shrill tone very unlike that of their fellows. 

Morning and evening the Toucans and Parrots pass, 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 175 


always alighting on the dead Mora, while during the day we 
detect them deep in the jungle, feeding in the tops of the 
trees and sending down to us their calls, yap!, kiok! or 
squawk! as the case may be. 

A fourth species, the Red-breasted Toucan * was occasion- 
ally seen high in the tree tops. These birds had two distinct 


Fic, 79. THE “‘LITTLE GIANT” AT WoRK. 


utterances, one a frog-like croak, and the other a double- 
toned shrill cry, the two tones being B and B# above middle C. 

Karly in the eyenings, about six o’clock, all the Banded Swal- 
lows ™ of the surrounding region passed overhead in a dense 
flock, two or three hundred in all, soaring with a steady, half- 
sailing flight very different from the dashing swoops which 
carry them over the lake when feeding during the day. Now 
they are headed northward to some safe roosting place and 


176 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


with no thought of passing gnats. ‘The myriads of graceful, 
glossy blue forms, each crossed on the breast with a band of 
white, made a most beautiful sight. In the morning their 
return flight was by twos and threes, with rapid darts here and 
there. Hunger now permitted no dressing of ranks or close 
formation. During the day none were to be seen about the 
bungalow, but only on the lake or a’ong the creek bed. The 
unfortunate gnats which hummed in the bungalow clearing 
were attended to by the little Feather-toed Palm Swifts,” 
which were most abundant. ; 

Among the hosts of smaller birds which haunted the tree- 
tops at the edge of the clearing, the Black-faced Green Gros- 
beaks * were especially noticeable. In color they reminded 
one of immature male Orchard Orioles, being yellowish 
green with black throat and face. "They fed morning and 
evening on the reddish berries of a great vine which ripened 
its fruit in the tree-tops, and here their song was repeated 
over and over, a rattling buzz, like the rapid stroke of a 
stick along the palings of a fence, followed by three liquid, 
whip-like notes, thus: 

F e = = | The buzz part of the song also 

Sf 4 did duty as the call-note. 

Once or twice each day we would be treated to a glimpse 
of the wonderful Pompadour Cotingas."° A flock of four 
male birds would flash overhead and swing up to some lofty 
perch, wary, silent, but of exquisite color. The whole body 
was of a brilliant reddish purple — rich wine color — with 
wings of purest white. Silhouetted against the blue sky 
as they were perched close together, they might have been 
Starlings or Blackbirds as far as color went, but when they 
all shot off into the air and showed up against the green 
leaves they fairly blazed —the yellow eyes, the scintillating 
purple plumage, and the dazzling white wings. The last 
flash of the wings before they were folded out of sight was a 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 77 


most efficient protection as it seemed to hold the vision, so 
that several moments elapsed before the perching bird itself 
could be located. 

The sombre, ashy females were not observed; certainly 
they never joined in the flights with the quartet of males. 
In the latter sex, a half dozen or more of the greater wing 
coverts are stiffened and the webs curved around almost into 
little tubes. We know practically nothing of the wild habits 
of the Pompadour Cotinga but a most remarkable thing about 
the color is that, by the application of a little heat, it turns 
from deep reddish purple to pale yellow. It is rather inter- 
esting to compare this with the changing of the Purple 
Finch from rose-red to yellowish in captivity. The Chat- 
terers or Cotingas form one of the most interesting tropical 
families of birds, and we lost no opportunity of studying 
closely all which we observed. At Hoorie, beside the Pom- 
padour Cotingas we saw the Black-tailed Tityra.'* In Mexico 
we had seen a closely related species and here again were the 
strange “‘Frog-birds,”’ with a little more black on the cap 
and tail. 

We first observed a pair near the colony of Red-backed 
Bunyahs in the creek bed, but as we were leaving the bunga- 
low for the last time, our farewell was made all the harder 
by discovering that the Tityras had begun to nest in a small 
dead stub standing alone in the centre of the vegetable garden 
and not twenty yards from the bungalow. 

The birds were having a hard time of it, carrying stiff, four- 
inch twigs into a three-inch hole, but they were succeeding, 
showing that they knew better than to hold the twig by the 
centre. The whole head to below the eyes and including the 
upper nape was black, while the bare skin of the face and the 
basal two-thirds of the beak were bright red. The male was 
uniformly pale bluish white, while his mate was distin- 
guished by many rather faint streaks of black on the breast, 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


“d1dOOR «LV NAACTIHD SIH ANV AALINAPY alavg 


0g 


1] 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 179 


- sides, and under parts. Both birds alternated in carrying 
the nesting material and in arranging it, remaining silent 
as long as we watched them. The nesting stub was about 
six inches in diameter and the hole thirty feet above the 
ground. 

These birds lack the bright hues of most of their relatives, 
but have the family trait of possessing some queer trick of 
plumage. While the first flight feather of the wing is perfectly 
normal, measuring about three and a half inches in length, the 
second is a mere parody of a feather, tapering to a point and 
reaching a length of less than two inches. Only the true 
lover of birds will realize what an effort it took to tear our- 
selves away from this pair of birds, whose eggs and young 
appear to be as yet undescribed. 

Two Marail Guans® and a Trumpeter” were interesting in- 
mates of the hen-yard and made no effort to escape, although 
they were full-winged and had the run of the clearing. The 
Trumpeter went to roost each night at 5.30 as punctually as 
if he had a watch under his wing. He slept standing on one 
leg, resting on the first joints of his front toes, his head 
drawn back behind his wing. 

Often on our walks we would come across an Indian hut, 
so hidden away in the depths of the dense forest that its 
discovery was merely a matter of chance. Most of these 
huts consisted simply of four poles covered by the rudest 
sort of a palm-thatched roof. The house furnishing was as 
primitive as the house itself — a hammock for each member 
of the family; varying in size in proportion to that of their 
owners, like the chairs of the historic nursery characters — 
the “Three Bears.” One or two calabashes or guords, 
several hand-woven baskets of cassava bread, some strips of 
dried fish and a smoky fire completed the picture. 

The entire domestic life of these Indian establishments 
went on perfectly openly and quite unaffected by our curious 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


180 


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A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 181 


scrutiny. We rarely saw the Indian men at home; they 
were off hunting, or fishing, or perhaps employed by the 
mine as woodcutters. The women were always busy, cook- 
ing, planting cassava, spinning cotton, weaving hammocks 
and baskets and bead aprons, necklaces and bracelets. We 
could never resist the temptation to stop and make friends 
with them. The gift of a cigarette won their hearts and we 
invariably found them very gentle and kindly. Their cos- 
tumes were extraordinary. Those who had been presented 
with the garments of civilization proudly wore them, though 
they were nothing more than short, loose slips. But the 
majority wore their native dress — consisting chiefly of beads; 
certainly far more healthful and suitable for them than the 
unaccustomed clothing given them by the missionaries. ‘The 
children were lovable little pieces of bronze, very smooth 
and glossy. They would often come softly up and slip their 
small hands in ours, looking up at us with shy wonder. 

In one of the huts we watched with amusement the wee-est 
of Indian girls trying to drive away a huge rooster who was 
pervading the hut. The child could not have been more than 
two years old — but she was already thoroughly feminine, 
waving her small arms valiantly at the intruder and then 
running away terrified to bury her head in her mother’s 
hammock, until she could summon courage for another 
attack upon the enemy. 

As time went on and news of our arrival spread, Indians 
from huts far distant in the forest made expeditions to come 
and look at us; as curious about us as was the small boy 
living up on the Essequibo River who saved up his “bits”’ 
and took a long journey down the river to see a horse. He 
had heard that there were such creatures but he wished 
to investigate for himself. So tours were made to see us and 
we were inspected by wondering eyes to whom white women 
were as strange as were horses to the little ‘““bush”’ lad. 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS, 


182 


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184 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


One day at the bungalow we found a group of Indian 
children gathered about the door of the modern bathroom 
which Mr. Wilshire had had fitted up. It was all a great 
puzzle to the little dwellers in the forest. To amuse them 
we took them in and turned on and off the shower bath, try- 
ing to explain what it was, but all to no purpose. To them 
a bath meant “‘me wash skin in river’’; while the shower- 
bath was merely an interesting scientific phenomenon — the 
mysterious white beings were making rain at their own will! 

We were disappointed at not getting more photographs of 
the Indians. Their prejudice against being photographed 
is a deep-rooted superstition. ‘They feel that it gives you a 
superhuman power over them. Indians often ran like deer 
through the woods when we pointed the camera at them 
and it was only by passing around candy to those who came 
to the bungalow and so diverting their attention from the 
dreaded camera, that we secured any pictures at all. 

We encountered but one poisonous serpent, and that one 
by proxy. A big bushmaster or couanacouchi, all but dead, 
was brought to the house one day by an Indian who had 
speared it. It had been found coiled up on the forest leaves 
and was so like them in color that the Indian had nearly 
trod upon it. Although we searched thoroughly we could 
never find a second specimen. 


A DAY IN THE JUNGLE NEAR HOORIE. 


The region about Hoorie consists chiefly of small but 
steep hills, some isolated with a few hundred yards of flat 
land about them, others close together and separated by 
deep, narrow valleys with running water at the bottom. All 
drain into Hoorie Creek which from the mine clearing runs 
in a fairly straight direction through flat, marshy land to the 
Barama River up which we had come. The whole country 
is, of course, completely covered with a thick forest, of good- 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 185 


sized trees, which are heavily draped with vines and parasitic 
plants, although these are not dense enough to shut out the 
sunlight. Thus in many places a heavy undergrowth is 
found, making it difficult to get about, while the steep ascents 
and equally precipitous descents into the numerous inter- 
~ secting valleys make extended exploration an arduous task, 
especially in the directions away from Hoorie Creek. But 
in this land of superabundant life, one needs but a short 
walk to fill one’s note-book with interesting facts. Let us 
spend a day inthe jungle. 

In light marching order, with glasses and note-books only, 
we started out in the direction of the great pit of golden gravel, 
and finding Nasua, the coolie, we persuaded him to pan a 
few shovelfuls of earth from the surface of the ground within 
reach of the spray of the water spouting up towards us. 

It was fascinating to, watch his slender deft fingers and 
his skilful manipulation of the gold pan. Filling it.to over- 
flowing with gray or red clay, he half sank it beneath the 
surface of a little pool and began rocking and turning it. 
Soon the large pebbles were all eliminated and only a muddy 
sediment left. This was washed and revolved until there 
seemed nothing but clear water, when as the last dirt was 
flowed over the rim there came the flash of the golden grains. 
Pressing his fingers on these, the pan was reversed for a 
moment, and then dipping his finger tips in the clear water of 
our glass vial the yellow grains sank swiftly to the bottom. 
Sometimes only a half penny’s worth would reward us, while 
again as much as a shilling’s value would be shown. 

Passing over the ridge we saw before us a deep and very 
narrow valley with precipitous sides, down which we slid and 
crawled, hanging on to vines and saplings to break our de- 
scent. At the bottom we found an interesting advance in the 
evolution of gold mining over the simplest form of gold pan- 
ning. ‘Two blacks were operating a ‘Long Tom,” which in 


186 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


mining vernacular is the name for a six by two, heavy, coarse, 
metal sieve set obliquely in the channel of a small brook. 
The gold-bearing gravel and clay is shovelled into it and pud- 
dled with a hoe, and the gold settles to the bottom to be later 
panned. Thus division of labor enters in—one black 
shovelling while his partner puddles. We asked them how 


Fic. 84. PANNING GOLD. 


much they were getting out and, as usual, they said “almost 
nothing,” or a few shillings’ worth at the most! ‘This was 
to avoid any danger of their tiny holdings being considered 
too valuable and taken away from them. Mr. Wilshire took 
a pan here on another day and unearthed a tiny nugget, 
worth perhaps two shillings, much to the blacks’ discom- 
fiture, who hastened to explain that such an opulent 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 187 


find was indeed rare. The poor fellows at best make little 
enough and it was pitiful to see the tiny packets of gold dust 
which they brought to the company’s store at the end of the 
week to exchange for food or credit checks. ‘The universal 
Guianan name for this type of independent miner is ‘‘ pork- 
knocker,” the explanation being that by knocking the rocks 
to pieces, they find just enough gold to procure the pork upon 
which they live. 

They are allowed to work on side streams near the large 
mining operations, their total taking of gold being relatively 
insignificant, while they sometimes locate valuable deposits 
in the course of their wanderings. ‘They are a jolly, happy- 
go-lucky type, apparently careless of their luck and invari- 
ably optimistic of the future. 

A naturalist would find it difficult to keep his attention 
fixed on “‘ Pan” or “Long Tom”’ in this narrow glade, for 
great iridescent blue morpho butterflies are floating about 
everywhere among the lights and shadows. From some tall 
trees a continual shower of whirling objects are falling, some 
white, others purple. Catching one we find it to be a narrow 
petaled, five parted, star-like blossom (Petrewa arborea), 
weighted by a slender stem. When thrown up into the air 
they revolve like horizontal pin-wheels, falling slowly and 
forming a most remarkable rain of color. Forcing our 
way up the opposite slope and on through the underbrush 
we come out on the corduroy road half a mile from the 
mine. 

As a corduroy sapling turns and splashes the water under 
foot, a cloud of orange and white butterflies arises and 
scatters through the woods. Suddenly through the warm 
damp stillness there rings out a piercing, three-syllabled cry, 
which was to become for us the vocal spirit of the Guiana 
wilderness. Day after day we heard it wherever the un- 
broken primeval forest reigned, but never near the haunts of 


188 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


man. ‘This, with the roar of the red baboon and the celestial 
theme of the Quadrille Bird, forms the trilogy most cherished 
in our memory of all the Guiana sounds. 

We are listening to the call of the Gold or Greenheart 
Bird,’ another member of the Cotingas or Chatterers, 
which is as remarkable for its voice as it is lacking in brilliant 
colors. Loud as the call is, it is very ventriloquil and difficult 
to locate. When directly beneath the sound it seems to 
come from the tops of the highest trees, a hundred feet up, 
whereas in all probability the bird is not more than twenty- 
five feet above our heads. It sits motionless but the violence 
of its utterance makes the whole branch vibrate. We soon 
learn that to search and find the bird directly is impossible, 
but by letting the eyes take in as large a field as possible, 
the vibration from the vocal effort is easily discernible. 

The male Goldbird is uniformly ashy or slate-colored, 
slightly darker above, very Solitaire-like both in color and 
size. The female is distinguished by a shade of rufous on the 
wing-coverts and the tips of the flight feathers. With such 
coloring it is not strange that the bird becomes invisible amid 
the dark shadows of the lower branches. 

The natives know this bird as the Pe-pe-yo from its call, 
and Goldbird from the fact that all pork-knockers believe 
it is never found far from deposits of gold; while the theory 
that it usually utters its call from a greenheart tree accounts 
for its third name. | 

Its note is typical of our American tropics, where highly 
developed song is rare, but single loud, metallic or liquid 
syllables are the rule. The bird has two introductory 
phrases which heretofore seem to have escaped the notice of 
observers. Indeed, until one noticed the invariable sequence 
of the two sets of notes, it would never be suspected that they 
proceeded from the same bird. The introductory phrases 
are low and muffled and yet have considerable carrying power. 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 189 


They possess the indescribable vibrating chord-like quality 
of the Veery’s song which defies all description. Musically 
they may be written thus: 


2 2 


Az ues 
= eee! 
— 


Almost instantly follow the three notes of the call or song. 
They are of tremendous strength and exceedingly liquid and 
piercing. The nearest imitation is to whistle the syllables 
wheé! wheé! o! as loudly as possible. We never tire of 
listening. The bird overhead calls so loudly that our ears 
tingle; another answers, then a third and a fourth, far away 
in the dim recesses of the forest. 

Many miles inland near the wonderful plateau of Roraima 
lives another species of Goldbird, similar to ours except for 
a bright rosy pink collar around the neck. We saw nothing 
of this beautiful Cotinga, but one of the Goldbirds which we 
secured had a distinct but irregular collar of rufous, hinting 
of a not distant relationship. 

A short distance along the corduroy road we came upon a 
half dozen naked Indians cutting away underbush, prepara- 
tory to making a new road bed. It was a delight to watch 
their sinewy bodies bend and strain, moving here and there 
through the thorns and sharp twigs with never a scratch. 
They came across many curious creatures among the rotting 
trunks and leaf mould, and when they learned we were inter- 
ested, they would tie their captives with liana threads, or 
imprison them in clever leaf boxes, and save them for us. 
The most weird looking of these were gigantic whip scorpions 
or pedipalp spiders (Admetus pumilio) like brobdignagian 
daddy-long-legs, which crawled painfully about on their 
slender legs and never showed an inclination to bite. They 


190 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


were of great size, stretching some eight and a half inches 
across. The three hinder pairs of legs were normal and used 
for walking, while the fourth pair was attenuated and func- 
tioned as feelers — the “‘whips”— measuring full ten inches 
in length. ‘The jaws were most terrible organs, three inches 


Fic. 85. WHIP SCORPION OR PEDIPALP SPIDER. 


long, dove-tailed with wicked spines, while the tips ended in 
villainous fangs. | 

A few hundred yards farther we came to a small clearing 
where the squaws were cooking dinner. The houses of these 
happy people are of the simplest construction. Four poles 
support a roof covered with loose palm thatch, open on all 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. IQI 


sides. The hammocks are hung beneath this and an open 
fire is built in the centre. The Guiana Indians are unequalled 
exponents of the simple life. 

In the deep jungle we are constantly impressed with the 
straightness of all the trunks. The lianas and bush-ropes 
may be scalloped or spiral, or with a multitude of little steps 
like the Monkey Ladder, and still easily reach the life-giving 
light high overhead. But the trees can afford no bends or 
curves or gnarly trunks; they rise lke temple columns. 
Cell must be on cell, each to aid in the life race upward. 
There are seldom high winds here in this great calm hot- 
house. Everywhere between the great trunks — whitish 
in the Crabwood, smoothed and noded in the Congo Pump, 
and deeply fluted in the Paddlewoods — between all these 
mast-like forms, are draped the slender ratline threads and 
cables of the aérial rigging. 

We seat ourselves on a prostrate trunk free of scorpions, 
at one side of the corduroy road, and watch and listen. 
Beside us on a tiny, dull red Mora sprout, eating voraciously 
is a caterpillar, branched and rebranched with a maze of 
nettle-hairs, while near it is another — a fuzzy fellow — who 
gives us one of the most unexpected surprises of the whole 
trip. As we first see him he is palest lavender in color, 
covered with long straight hairs, longer than those of our 
familiar black and brown woolly bear caterpillar of the north. 
Five minutes later we look again and see a third caterpillar — 
or no, it is the second one, but remarkably changed — a crea- 
ture flat and immovable, covered with a score of recurved 
pink tufts of curled hair. The caterpillar chameleon has 
flattened his longer pelage of lavender into a thin line of 
prostrate down, bringing into view the recurved pink tufts, 
and thus has become an entirely different object, both as 
to shape, color and pattern. ‘There must be a special set of 
muscles controlling these hairs. Even if a bird had appetite 


192 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


to digest such an unsavory hirsute object, it would well be 
dismayed at the transformation. 

Everywhere we observe examples of protective form or 
coloration. On the under side of a branch in front of us 
are what appear to be many tufts of blackish moss—until 
we brush against some of it and a few of the tufts resolve 
into dense bunches of caterpillars. Others which we touch 
on purpose to see if they be caterpillars or not, deceive us 
doubly by retaining their vegetable character. 

On the ground at our feet are scattered seed sheaths which 
have fallen from the branches high overhead. There are 
myriads of them. Suddenly one takes legs to itself and 
moves and only after examining it closely do we know it for 
a beautiful brown elater, a beetle (Semzotus ligneus) embossed 
with pale ivory —a perfect living counterpart of the arbo- 
real seed sheaths strewn all about. Words completely fail to 
give an idea of the wonder and delight of having one’s senses 
set at naught by these devices of nature. After being taken 
in by several, we Imagine we see them everywhere in inno- 
cent leaves or bit of lichens! 

Many travellers — Wallace and Bates among them — 
speak often of the scarcity of flowers in the tropics, but here 
at Hoorie and on our later expeditions we were hardly ever out 
of sight of blossoms. A few feet behind us, as we sit on the log, 
are two Solomon-seal-like plants (Castus sp.) eighteen inches 
high, with the stem and leaves growing in a wide ascending 
spiral—making one revolution throughout its course. A sheaf 
of flower heads appears at the top of the plant with a single 
white open flower, giving forth the sweetest perfume. Bell- 
shaped, it is formed by a single sweeping petal, the edges 
apposed along the summit, and the mouth rimmed with the 
finest hair-like fringe. The slit in the upper part is protected 
by a second narrow petal recurved at the tip, showing the 
heart within. Such a blossom would be a splendid addition 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 193 


to our conservatories, and a vast harvest awaits the grower 
of tropical plants other than orchids. 

Now, the morning half gone, rain falls —a gentle mist, 
light as dew, refreshing and pleasant. 

Through the drops to the blossom comes a great morpho 
butterfly of blue tinsel, soon followed by a big yellow papilio. 


Fic. 86. A JUNGLE BLOossom. 


A tiny white butterfly, bordered with black, dashes up and 
attacks the papilio with fury, driving it away, as a Kingbird 
vanquishes a Hawk. 

Just as we are about to arise, a Goldbird calls in the 
distance and then without warning a beautiful song rings 
out close at hand —six or eight clear descending notes like 
the early morning chant of the Woodhewer, but even more 


194 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


liquid, running together at the last into a maze of warbling 
which continues for eight or ten seconds — then ceases, and 
the liquid notes form an exquisite finale of a trio of sweet 
phrases. ‘The singer is invisible; we never learn what it is, 
but it deserves a place near the head of the songsters even 
of temperate climes. As we walk along, Toucans and other 
birds fly high overhead with whirring beats of their drenched 
wings. Woodhewers loop from trunk to trunk and peer at us 
as we pass, while Ant-birds fly here and there. In all our 
tramps through thick jungles, these two latter families are 
in the majority, the former hitching up the trunks like brown 
Woodpeckers of various sizes, the latter simulating Wrens, 
Warblers and Sparrows in action and often in voice. 

One, a White-shouldered Pygmy Ant-bird,** now flits ahead 
of us, tiny as a Wren, slate-colored, with white dots on 
the lesser coverts of the wings and a dotted bar across the 
wings. The flanks and under wings are white and although 
ordinarily concealed, yet the little fellow flirts his wings every 
second, thus flashing out the color, and making himself most 
conspicuous. His call-note is low and inarticulate, but he 
occasionally lisps a pleasing little song; chu! chu! chiwee! 

We enter a deep narrow gully, our feet sinking deep in moss 
and mould, trip over a hidden root and, looking back, see 
a magnificent rhinoceros beetle which we have disturbed, 
feebly kicking his six legs in the air. In these deep valleys 
the air is saturated with reeking odors — woody, spicy and 
mouldy and altogether delightful. Moss grows on the 
stems of the plants like wide radiating fans of delicate green 
lace. In these places we find the commonest palms which 
grow near Hoorie — stemless, with fronds springing fern- 
like from the ground. 

Leaving the vicinity of the trail we start out through the 
heart of the jungle, keeping by compass in a general north- 
west direction. Here the trees increase in size and grow 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 195 


almost thirty feet apart, the intervening space being filled 
with lesser growth, parasitic lianas and huge ferns eight to 
twelve feet in height, tree-ferns in size but not in mode of 
growth. 

The rain now increases and we plod happily along 
drenched to the skin, giving ourselves up to the delight of a 
walk in a tropical downpour. Serenely oblivious of pools and 
dripping branches, we trudge along until finally a tacuba 
over a creek breaks with our weight and we splash in up to 
our waists. Indeed we had long ago become accustomed to 
such drenchings, for during our stay at Hoorie the days were 
alternate sunshine and shower. In starting out for a long 
tramp we never thought of taking any protection against the 
rain. ‘The only thing to be shielded was the precious camera. 
What matters a wetting when one is perfectly dressed for 
whatever may happen! 

A word must be said here from the woman’s point of 
view about the costume which was adopted as being absolutely 
suited to the bush life. In the first place it was light — so 
light that one never felt the burden of a single superfluous 
ounce of weight, and when thus freed from the drag of heavy 
clothing one would come in unfatigued from tramps which 
would have been impossible for a woman in orthodox dress, 
no matter how short the skirt. But in the light khaki 
knickerbockers, loose negligee shirts of scotch flannel or 
fibrous cellular cloth, stockings and tennis shoes and a water- 
proof felt hat, one was ready for anything. If soaked by a 
sudden downpour, a few minute’s walk in the sun would dry 
one; if walking difficult tacubas, or clambering over huge 
fallen trees, of which there were any number throughout the 
forest, or climbing precipitous and slippery hills one was 
never hampered by unsuitable dress. 

Of course there are many wildernesses where it is unneces- 
sary for a woman to wear knickerbockers and where there is no 


196 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


reason why she should defy public prejudice by doing so; 
but the woman who attempts to tramp through the South 
American jungle will find that safety and comfort make 
them absolutely essential 

One realized as never before with what handicaps woman 
has tried to follow the footsteps of man; with the result that 
physical exhaustion has robbed her of all the joys of life in 
the open. 

Returning to our day in the jungle; we tramped silently 
over the sodden ground, now and then sending some 
panic-stricken Macaw or Parrot screeching from its roost. 
After an hour the rain ceased and the sun shone brightly, but 
where we were, many yards beneath the vast mat of tree-top 
foliage, only single spots and splashes of light broke the solid 
shadows. For a long distance we trod silently on deep 
mould and moss, and not a sound of beast or bird broke the 
stillness As we crossed a swirling creek on the trunk of a 
mighty fallen tree, something fluttered ahead. . We could 
not see what it was. Closer we came and still the object 
remained indistinct; we seemed to see a butterfly and yet it 
appeared impossible. At last we marked it down on a 
fern frond and crept up until our eyes were within two feet. 
Nothing was visible but the graceful lacery of the frond, 
peu a sli slanting beam of sunlight struck it and there, close 

us Was the ghost /of a butterfly! It spread fully three 


only by the/indist; 
ghostly stil i 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 197 


Then came an interruption, so sudden and unrelenting 
that it seemed to reach to the very heart of nature. A Red 
“Baboon” raised his voice less than fifty yards away, and 
even the leaves seemed to tremble with the violence of the 
outburst of sound. A long, deep, rasping, vibrating roar, 
followed by a guttural inhalation hardly less powerful. After 
a dozen connected roars and inbreathings the sound de- 
scended to a slow crescendo, almost died away and then 
broke out with renewed force. 

We crept swiftly toward the sound, treading as softly as 
possible and soon, in a high bulletwood, we saw three of the 
big red monkeys. The male passed on out of sight, and 
the second, a medium-sized animal, followed. The third 
was a mother with her baby clinging tightly to her back. 
She climbed slowly, showing her rich light golden red fur 
and beard, while the arms and legs of her dark-furred 
baby were revealed as lines of darker color around her 
body. 

Twenty minutes later we stalked another roaring male, and 
found four in this troop. We saw two of the females giving 
voice with the leader, shrill falsettos which became audible 
only during the less deafening inspiration. 

We tried to think of a simile for the voice of this monkey 
and could only recur to that which always came to mind — 
the roar of wind, ushering in a cyclone or terrific gale. And 
yet there was ever present to the ear the feeling of something 
living — as if mingled with the elemental roar was the howl 
of a male jaguar. No sound ever affected us quite as this; 
seeming always to prestige some unnamed danger. While 
it lasted, the sense of peace which had been inspired by the 
calmness and silence of the jungle gave place to a hidden 
portent of evil. Yet we loved it, and the savage delight 
which we took in this and other wilderness sounds made 
our pulses leap. 


198 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


THE DROWNED FOREST. 


At the engine house a ten foot dam had been thrown across 
the Hoorie Creek bed, and the apparently slight cause had 
brought about wide reaching effects; this slight raising of the 
water throwing back the creek in many directions. One 
could hardly call it a lake as there was no wide body of water, 
and yet it had a shore line of more than ten miles, reaching 
out along finger-like extension up every side valley. The 
original creek was only a few feet wide and the jungle grew 
down to the very bank. So now the trees were deep under 
water. 

All which were below the new level were dead, standing 
like an array of tall bare ghosts compared to the luxuriant 
forest all about. When on a rise of ground, one could trace 
the course of the lake by the lines of naked branches. And 
when steering one’s canoe between the leafless trunks, the 
effect was most startling. The sunlight came through in a 
way different from any tropical forest. Every leaf had 
fallen, leaving the trees as bare as in a northern winter and 
stripping the vines and bush-ropes, but the condition of the 
parasites and air-plants was most interesting. All those 
which were truly parasitic, living on the life-sap of their 
hosts, were of course also dead, but the orchids and other 
air-plants were flourishing — showing as large tufts or 
sprays of light green here and there. In places the branches 
had a beaded effect, so numerous and yet so isolated were 
the epiphytes. 

We drifted silently along, by the impetus of a touch of the 
paddle on a passing trunk. Orchids were in blossom, and 
ferns, mosses and lichens ran riot in orange, brown and 
ivory patches on the tree-trunks. Muricots and the fierce 
perai were abundant here, and now and then some fish 
broke water, throwing rings of light into the shadowy places. 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 199 


Spiders, ants and a host of other wingless insects were 
crawling on many of the trunks, made captive by the flood. 
Their inability to walk on the water was evident when we 
knocked some of them off, so they must have lived on their 
island trees for the last year, the time of existence of the 
dam. The spiders were legion in species, hardly two alike, 


Fic. 87. THE DROWNED FOREST. 


from minute ones, shaped like nothing else under heaven, 
with relatively enormous hooks and thorns on their brightly 
colored abdomens, to giant tarantulas, who stood up and 
threatened us before beating a dignified retreat. 

The increase of water had attracted many water-loving 
birds, and great Rufous Kingfishers swung past us, strong- 
winged, beautiful birds, carrying on their business of life 
in a virile, unhesitating way. Between the trunks flashed 


200 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the White-banded Swallows ** now hovering before a trunk 
and snatching a spider, now dipping at full speed for a 
floating gnat. A hollow rattling drew our attention upward, 
and there, gazing intently down at us, was a splendid Wood- 
pecker — the Guiana Ivory-bill,” close kin to our Ivory-bill 
of the Florida swamps. Imagine a big Woodpecker with 
dark brown back, wings and tail, while the long erect crest, 
head, neck and breast are bright scarlet, shading into rich 
rufous on the under parts! Such a beauty looked down at 
us, and then without sign of fear dived into a hole. 

The Indians, passing several times a day, with loads of 
cord wood in their ballyhoos or flat-bottomed boats, were 
familiar with the Woodpecker and asserted that the bird 
had no mate. It was a male and although we visited the 
place several times no female ever appeared. ‘The dead tree 
which held the nest was called Aramaca by the Indians, and 
was about a foot and a half in diameter, with the entrance 
not less than sixty feet above the water. A living tree like 
it on the bank near by had obtuse entire leaves and large, 
brown, slightly curved pods. ‘The trunk was rotten, espe- 
cially at the water line, and as it could not have remained 
standing much longer, we decided to investigate the home 
of this little-known bird. 

We hailed the first Indians who appeared and set them to 
work felling the tree. The Woodpecker flew out at the 
first stroke of the axe, and remained close by, showing little 
fear or anxiety. We landed and the Indians made the 
trunk fall in our direction. It struck the water with a terrific 
splash, breaking into several lengths, and finally coming to 
rest with the hole upward. Running out along the floating 
log we found that the nest contained a single bird, with no 
trace of addled eggs or other young. The opening was a 
circle, four inches in diameter, and the cavity fourteen inches 
deep. The young bird was about five days old, featherless 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 201 


and downless, but the sprouting feather tracts were very 
distinct. 

On the edge of the branches of the lower mandible, about 
three-quarters of the way to their base, were two round, white 
knobs or warts, and a large white patch like an abnormally 
large egg-tooth was at the tip of each mandible. These 
structures were undoubtedly direction marks for aiding the 
parent in finding the mouth of the young bird in the darkness 
of the nest chamber. When the mouth was open they formed 
the four corners, with the throat cavity in the centre. 

A most remarkable collection of creatures gathered on the 
upper side of their wrecked tree, tenants of the bark and wood 
for the last year. Two small green-headed lizards made 
flying leaps and escaped ashore. But marooned for life were 
several species of bark beetles (Nvyctobates giganteus and 
Paxillus leachii), a huge boring beetle, and spiders galore. 
We noticed a slight disturbance among the bits of floating 
bark and pith, and scooped up a most wonderful creature — 
a true bug, perfectly flat, with the sides of its body drawn out 
into irregular flat serrations, while in color it was the very 
essence of lichened bark or dead leaf. Placed on a piece of 
wood it instantly drew in its legs and clung tightly. If it 
had not been frightened by the water we could have handled 
it a dozen times without knowing it was an insect. 

A few yards away a pair of Mealy Amazon Parrots ® were 
shrieking and flying restlessly about a great Mora tree, 
but we could not discover their nest. On our way home a 
dainty Blue Honey Creeper *** alighted on the bow of our 
canoe; rich deep blue except for wings, tail and throat which 
were black. The feet and legs were clear yellow, showing 
most conspicuously against the plumage. 

A pair of Great Green Cassiques*’ had swung their 
four-foot pendent nest from the tallest limb of a tree standing 
in the water, and we spent ten minutes watching the male 


202 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


court his mate. As he uttered his incoherent medley of 
liquid cowbell-like notes, he bent his neck, thrusting his head 
far downward and forward, and at the same time throwing 
both wings forward and around in.a semicircle. As this 
curious action was completed, the vocal utterance came to a 
close and the performance was over. The early stages in the 
evolution of such a courtship may be observed in our common 
Cowbird of the north, and a further developed stage in the 
little Guiana Cowbird. 


THE CITY OF THE. CASSIOUES, 


On the first day of our arrival, even before we came in 
sight of the clearing, we heard the cries of the splendid big 
Orioles or Cassiques, known all over Guiana as Bunyahs. 
In the creek bed below the dam, but within the radius of the 
clearing, stood a medium sized tree and among its branches a 
colony of Scarlet-backed Cassiques ” were flying back and 
forth from their nests. 

We made a mental note of them at the time but passed on 
without giving them more than a glance. Later near the 
bungalow we occasionally saw them in small numbers 
associating, as we have already stated, with the Lavender 
Jays. — 

As we wished to take a number of young Cassiques back to 
New York with us and to study the colony as thoroughly as 
we could in the space of a week’s time, we started out early 
one morning for the Cassiques’ tree. The long pendent 
nests were all seventy feet or more from the ground. ‘Taking 
the rusty climbing irons from their case, we recalled vividly 
the last time they had been in use — a cold June day in Nova 
Scotia, when the nesting hole of a Three-toed Woodpecker 
had been the goal. How different were these tropical 
surroundings! 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 203 


Bravely the start up the tree was made; jab and pull, jab 
and pull, while the straps pressed in on ankle and knee, 
giving that peculiar sensation that cannot be described, but 
which every climbing naturalist knows so well. Ten, 
twenty, thirty feet were scaled, and then one’s hand on the 
opposite side of the trunk broke through some tiny earthen 
tunnels, and, like many an unfortunate telegraph-line-man, 
struck a live wire. At least, the sensation was very much the 
same, only the electric shocks were here progressive, and 
when they had reached the elbow, they were seen to be a 
numerous and enthusiastically defensive horde of ants. At 
one end a pair of jaws gave a firm point of leverage and 
attachment, whereby the insect could secure a footing while 
operating the sting from the opposite end of his anatomy. 

There have been martyrs to science as well as religion, but 
much as one might desire to look into those nests only forty 
feet above, it may be doubted if any man could have con- 
trolled his feelings and co6rdinated his muscles sufficiently 
to continue the ascent. The details of the descent were hazy; 
an exceedingly rough trunk seemed to shoot upward through 
one’s embrace until the ground was reached and the Cas- 
siques screamed their delight. 

They had seen many of the four-handed folk foiled in a 
similar manner, and now this new enemy, who scaled the 
trunk with two hands and two spurs was equally baffled by 
the tiny allies of the birds! 

But study the colony we must, and selecting a line of soft, 
springy underbrush, we had an Indian drop the tree on it. 
A cloud of screaming Cassiques followed it to earth, scattering 
only as we ran up and began to gather the young birds. Out 
of the first nest there rushed a lizard about a foot in length, 
brown, with head and fore-legs bright green. He scurried 
like a streak of light across the red tailings, the speed sending 
him up on his hind legs, so that his track was bipedal. 


204 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Before we describe the condition of the colony as we found 
it when we reached the fallen tree, it will be interesting to 
record its early history as far as we know it. This was the 
first year of this colony of Cassiques, as last year there were 
none nearer the clearing than the mouth of Hoorie Creek, 


Fic. 88. NESTS OF RED-BACKED CASSIQUES. 


three and one-half miles away, where in a tree, overhanging 
the house of a black, a colony has been in existence for two 
years. Three months ago, in January, one Scarlet-backed 
Cassique was observed in the clearing at the mine, but it 
soon vanished. Within a few days, however, a number of 
these birds appeared, perhaps guided by the solitary scout. 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS 205 


They set to work at once, establishing their new colony in 
the tree which we had cut down. So at the time we began 
to study this colony, it could not have been older than three 
months. 

The tree stood alone in the centre of the tailings from 
the gold washing and 20 or 30 feet away from all the sur- 
rounding trees. The finely sifted sediment of the tailings 
had broadened out the water of the creek bed so that it 
flowed delta-like on both sides of the tree. With their 
characteristic intelligence, the Cassiques had taken advan- 
tage of this unusual condition, and were thus guarded from 
enemies, by the water, by the isolation from other trees 
and by the far more formidable stinging ants which probably 
for many years had had their home on the trunk of the tree. 
The little bird city as we found it contained 39 homes; 
three-quarters of which were on one branch, 70 feet from 
the ground, while ro were suspended from a smaller branch, 
a few feet lower down. Of the 39 nests, 4 were only half 
finished, while to were empty, having been already used 
and deserted this season. The others may be divided as 
follows: 


One nest contained an addled egg; white with brownish 
spots chiefly at the larger end. 

One nest had one egg containing a week old embryo. 

Two nests each had a skeleton of a well grown young 
bird; one of which had been caught about the neck, and the 
other about the legs by fine flexible tendrils which had caused 
their deaths. 

There were altogether 28 young birds: g full-fledged, 16 
with feathers just’ appearing, while 3 were recently hatched. 
They were distributed as follows: 


14 nests contained 1 young bird. 
7 nests contained 2 young birds. 


206 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


The special distribution was as follows: 


Number and Condition of Young. Number of Nests. 
2 well-fledged young in 2 nests. 
t well-fledged young in 5 nests. 
2 partly fledged young in 4 nests. 
1 partly fledged young in 8 nests. 
2 newly hatched birds in I nest. 
1 newly hatched bird in I nest. 


The nests were typically Cassique-like, made of stout root- 
lets and grasses, while at the lower end was a cup-shaped 
lining of very fine grass and root hairs, forming a soft bedding. 
The nests varied from thirteen to eighteen inches in length, 
and all but five had an upper roosting chamber, built on 
above the entrance. ‘These five were built directly beneath 
a group of others, and the bases of the ones above served as 
protecting roofs. ‘This was a most interesting adaptation to 
varying conditions. Just before felling the tree we noticed in 
several instances that both parents shared in the work of 
bringing food to the young ones. Almost all of the young 
were uninjured by the fall of the tree. Three were thrown 
out of the nests and these we chloroformed in order to 
find what their food had been. The stomach of one was 
crammed with white seeds of two kinds; one nearly round 
and about as large as the head of a pin, while the others 
were longer, perhaps one-third of an inch in length. Mingled 
with these seeds were remains of numerous insects; beetles, 
grasshoppers and caterpillars. The two other birds, which 
were younger, and almost bare of feathers, had received chiefly 
animal food, as follows: — 


t. A three-inch, smooth caterpillar, medium sized spider, 
many small bugs, and a mass of berry seeds. 

2. Several one-inch cut-worms; spider; small iridescent 
beetle; yellow butterfly; a few berry seeds. 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 207 


The young birds were almost without down, the adult 
plumage being outlined very shortly after hatching. In a 
bird of only four or five days the dull orange or yellowish 
color of the rump feathers shows plainly. When these 
break through their sheaths, the color is a dull rose; becom- 
ing redder as the feathers increase in length, but not attaining 
the brilliant scarlet of the parent birds until the succeeding 
moult. When full grown, these birds measure about ten 
inches in length and are glossy black in color, save only for 
the brilliant scarlet rump. The bill is a conspicuous green- 
ish white, while the feet are black. The eyes of the nestling 
are dark hazel in color, while in the old birds the iris is of 
a most beautiful greenish blue. 

The voice of the very young birds is a shrill incessant peep ! 
peep! when they are gaping for food, but the half-fledged 
youngsters utter solitary harsher notes under the same 
conditions. The five fully fledged birds had learned what 
fear was and instead of feeding, crouched down at the bot- 
tom of the artificial nest which Mr. Crandall made for them. 
But hunger overcame fear and before night all had taken 
food. We kept an Indian busy gathering a berry or fruit 
which looked, tasted and smelled much like a miniature 
tomato. The leaves of this low plant are large, deeply 
incised and studded above and below with numerous thorns. 
The plant is from three to six feet in height, is abundant in 
the clearing, and forms the favorite vegetable food of the 
Cassiques. In addition to this, the young birds had a few 
mealworms and ants’ eggs from our small store, and all the 
soft insects which our Indian could capture. After two full 
days of grasshopper catching, the pride of the noble red-man 
began to feel itself injured, and additional inducements in 
the way of tobacco were needed to sustain his interest in his 
orthopterous pursuits. 

On the following day the oldest of the young Cassiques 


208 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


flew feebly to a low perch and nothing could induce him to 
return to his fellows again. He uttered isolated call-notes, 
which however, at the approach of food, merged at once into 
the baby scream. 

We had carried the young Cassiques a third of a mile 
to the veranda of the bungalow, where they were put out of 
sight and sound of their parents; yet early next morning 
four Cassiques had discovered their offspring and were 
flying back and forth close to the house carrying food in 
their beaks. In an hour no fewer than twenty Cassiques had 
collected, and on placing the young out in a low tree, the 
parents came at once and fed them. 

One bird which we watched carefully brought masses of 
caterpillars which it inserted within the wide mouth of the 
young. Although the young birds were mixed up, five or 
six of the same size being placed together in one artificial 
nest, yet there was no question about recognition on the part 
of the old birds. At least there was no reckless undirected 
feeding; certain young were fed by certain adults. 

The second day after we had taken the young birds, no 
Cassiques came to feed them, and we found the reason was 
that the entire flock had begun to found a new colony in the 
very nearest tree to the one we had cut down, about twenty 
feet away. This too was isolated and proteeted both by 
shallow water and by the vicious tunneling ants. 

Some of the new nests must have been started the day 
before, as the roost chambers were complete and in several the 
top of the nest itself was finished. The rains had been rather 
heavy for a few days and may have influenced the early build- 
ing of the shelters above the nest. To the three or four inches 
of nest the birds were bringing beakfuls of fibres, both sexes 
working energetically. We were glad to know that our 
wholesale destruction of the first colony site had wrought no 
permanent change. At the rate the birds were building, the 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 209 


second colony would be in a flourishing state in another two 
weeks. 

These Red-backed Cassiques*” together with their near 
relatives the Yellow-backs® are most interesting birds, and 
a careful study of the growth and daily routine of a colony 
would yield most valuable results. They seem to trust more 
to the presence of man as a protection against enemies than 
to the guardianship of wasps, but both methods are to be 
found. We traced these birds all the way up the Barama, 
and from what we could learn, none were found higher up, 
the colony at Hoorie Mine being the farthest outpost. 


NIGHT LIFE. 


Owing to our brief stay and the difficulty of exploration in 
this hilly and densely underwooded country, we gained little 
thorough knowledge of the vertebrate fauna hereabouts. 
The phase of tropical life which, during the week of our stay, 
was most striking, was the wonderful host of insects attracted 
by the electric lights in the evening. The bungalow contained 
four large rooms, two on each side of a wide central passage, 
extending through the house—a kind of interior veranda, 
open front and back. This was the dining room, where 
every day we feasted upon delicious dishes of peccary, tina- 
mou, curassow and paca, or “ bush-hog,” ‘‘maam,”’ “‘ powie”’ 
and “‘labba,” as we learned to call them in the vernacular. 

Here during the evening meal, after the lights were turned 
on, came legions of the most curious, the most beautiful 
winged creatures imaginable. We all turned entomologists 
and never tired of admiring the wonderful colors, and bizarre 
shapes which night after night were revealed in never-ending 
array. The first night Crandall sent up an excited call of 
“ Get a vial! Get a vial!’ and this became our vesper slogan. 
From the yard, or veranda, or room, or kitchen hut, would 
come the call from some of our party, “‘ Get a vial!’ and the 


210 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


one nearest the array of bottles in the improvised laboratory 
would hasten to the aid of the discoverer, who would prob- 
ably be found with eyes glued to some strange creature and 
blindly reaching out behind for the approaching vial, in 
which to capture his prize. 

There were few insects of very small size and many indeed 
were gigantic, as judged by our standards of the north. 
None were unpleasant and they seldom attempted suicide 
in soup or cocoa. ‘They were content to flutter a moment 
about the electric globe and drop quietly to the white table- 
cloth. Praying mantises, or “ rar-hosses’”’ as our southern 
negroes call them, would whirr in and climb awkwardly over 
the bouquets of flowers, swaying from side to side and now 
and then reaching out for some passing insect, with a sudden 
unflexing of those murderous, deceptive fore-legs. One which 
flew on the table was a new species, which has been named 
Stagmomantis hoorie.* If exercise during meals is good 
for one’s digestion then we were hygienic in the extreme, 
for twenty times in succession we would have to go to the 
veranda laboratory to chloroform our captives. 

The second evening, although a heavy rain was falling, a 
bewildering number of moths, mostly small but of exquisite 
patterns, dashed in between the drops. ‘There were almost 
never two alike; indeed among one hundred species captured 
on two evenings, there were but two duplicates. 

It is folly to try to describe with any exactness the beauty, 
even of the commonest, plainest insect, and how much more 
impossible to convey an accurate idea of these tropical beau- 
ties. Think of a sapling near an electric light covered with 
fifty or sixty exquisite moon moths (Thysania agrippina) — 
pale creamy white, banded and looped with lines of brown 
—none less than nine inches in spread of wing and many 
reaching an even foot across. 


* Zodlogica, Vol. 1, No. 4, page 123. 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 211 


The hawk-moths that came to our table were all different, 
all beautiful; one a study in pale yellow; another variegated 
green with blended purples and red (Argeus labruscae) on 
the hinder wings. This one too bore on its eyes the long shaft 
of a pollen stalk from some night flowering orchid. 

Then a moth would come, recalling somewhat the Pro- 
methea and Polyphemus of our childhood’s collecting, but 
with great transparent mirrors in the centre of the wings 
(Alttacus | Hesperia] erycina); next, two as different as possible 
but which we learned later were sexes of the same species 
(Dir phia tarquinia) — the female, large, plain brown with a 
forked streak of light across the fore-wings: her mate a full 
third smaller with rosy hind-wings and fore-wings frosted 
white, save for two conspicuous circles at the fork of his white 
lightning. 

On the third evening there were fewer moths, but many 
more beetles and grasshopper-like insects. Green was the 
predominating color among the moths this evening — from 
palest yellow-green to darkest bottle-green. In some the 
green had a border sending ray-like lines across all four wings. 
Yellow and white were the colors almost always present in 
combination with the green, the yellow being usually con- 
fined to the hinder wings. A stain of gold was sometimes 
laid over the green, and in one beauty the green seemed to 
have been spattered at hazard over a milky-white surface. 
This proved to be a female of a species known only from a 
single male (Racheolopha nivetacta), the female proving to 
be twice as large as her mate. 

Instead of burying the insects in enve'opes or mounting 
them in the orthodox way with the fore-wings raised unnatu- 
rally until the hind edge is at right angles to the body, we 
merely supported the wings, and allowed them to dry in the 
natural position. By doing this we usually lost sight of part 
of the hinder wing, but we gained the true relation of the 


212 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


spots and patterns on the fore-wings to those on the thorax 
and the result was in many instances surprising. For ex- 
ample, when spread, the fore-wings of one tiny moth (Pro- 
nola fraterna) showed two meaningless black spots forming 
each one-third of a circle. When closed naturally, these 
united with the black abdomen to form a perfect black circle 
stamped upon a mat of velvety cream color. 

All words are inadequate to describe these exquisite crea- 
tures; one with the lightning flash of gold across its cloudy 
background; another, enscribed with Chinese hieroglyphics; 
a third of lavender, yellow and russet mosaics set about large 
transparent windows of opalescent blue.* One of the most 
exquisite was a little moth (Chrysocestis fimbriaria) spread- 
ing less than an inch, with wings of iridescent mother-of-pearl 
rimmed with dull golden, on which was set a score of embossed 
beads of the most brilliant gilt, flashing as no gem ever flashed. 

If one could spend a season here studying the motions alone 
of these insects, it would well repay him. One moth, irides- 
cent with a broad border of black (Eudioptis hyalinata), 
curled the abdomen straight up into the air, and separated its 
extremity into a wide-spread tuft of hairs. These radiated . 
like the tentacles of a sea anemone, and when the whole was 
waved about, it looked like some strange crawling caterpillar, 
holding its head high above the prostrate wings of the moth. 

The last evening, as if to make our departure still harder, 
the insects increased in number. Walking sticks five and 
six inches in length skimmed through the air, their bodies, 
legs and wings dark in color and ornamented with irregular 
scales and projections, until their resemblance to a jagged- 
barked twig was perfection. If this species were represented 
by thousands of individuals in its haunts, birds or four-footed 

* Both of these moths proved to be new to science, both as to species 


and genus and have been named respectively /ositea gynaecia and Zaevius 
calocore. Zodlogica, Vol. 1, No, 4. 


A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS. 213 


enemies would soon learn to detect even such an exact coun- 
terfeit, and the protective value would be lost. But in the 
tropics the infinite variety is the key-note to success in pro- 
tective adaptation. On the table-cloth at one time would be 
perfect green leaves (katydid-like orthopters), green leaves 
with large worm-eaten defects or spottings (some of the 
mantises) and many brown, lichened leaves and twigs 
(moths and walking sticks). Even if two of the same species 
appeared at once, the chances were that one would be much 
the larger and of an entirely different shade with a dis- 
tinct individual pattern of mimic defects. 

Big owl moths (Hyperchiria liberia, H. nausica, Auto- 
meria cinctistriga and others) alternated with tree-hoppers 
of all sizes with branched and rebranched horns rising from 
their thoraxes (Hemiptycha [Umbonia] spinosa and others). 
The prize of one evening was a grasshopper (Plerochroya 
ocellata) which came in on the sleeve of the coolie butler. 
It had alighted on the white cloth as he crossed the yard 
between the kitchen and the house. Its wide, jagged fore- 
wings met closely above the back, forming a half green, half 
brown leaf, complete even to the mid and side ribs. On the 
hind wings were what we could merely guess were either 
sexual ornaments or warning markings, visible only in flight. 
The ground color of these translucent wings was a finely 
mottled yellow and brown, while painted on the pleated sur- 
face were two eye-spots like those upon the feathers of a 
Peacock-pheasant, a dark velvety shaded portion with a 
delicately shaded ocellus at one edge. 

The last insect captured was a tree-hopper as big as a 
cicada, mottled and marbled on the fore-wings, and stained 
scarlet on the hinder. | 

In Appendix C, pages 397, 398, I have added a list of a 
few of the moths and Orthoptera collected on the dining 
table at Hoorie, which have been identified. 


CHAPTER. Mig: 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS WITH 
INDIANS AND CANOE. 


HE most interesting observation we made on the launch 

trip from Hoorie Creek down the Barama River, was of 

a flocking of more than two hundred big green Cassiques ’”” 

the birds of the liquid cow-bell notes, which passed low over- 

head with a roar of cackling voices, and a loud whistling of 

wings, bound for some safe roosting place — still another 
species to exhibit this common roosting habit. 

We found Farnum’s deserted, the family having gone 
down to Georgetown, so we took possession of the empty 
house; swinging our hammocks on the porch and watching 
the sun sink over the river, with the dark forest beyond, 
growing ever darker. As we had been told that there were 
no mosquitoes, we had not hung our hammock nets, and the 
droning hum of these miserable pests kept us awake for hours. 
From across the river came the discontinuous, labored puffs 
of an overloaded freight train pulling up a grade. Now 
and then the wheels would slip and four or five chugs would 
come in quick succession. One could imagine the heavy 
trail of smoke and sparks, the shining rails and the long 
line of heavy, slowly moving cars — then the sound ceased, 
and far down the river another frog took up the chugging. 
Now and then the voice of a red “baboon” came to our 
ears; and continually the mosquitoes “zooned’”’ and on the 
floor below our hammocks the dog whined unceasingly as 


he scratched his béte rouge. When we opened our eyes, 
214 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 215 


lightning bugs of several candle-power flashed above us in 
the thatch of the porch, and by their light we could see big 
tarantulas dragging their prey here and there, seeming ready 
to drop with fatigue at any moment. All the sounds of the 
wilderness are lulling, save that of mosquitoes when one is 
netless. Many times that night we wished ourselves back 
in the boat. 

We had heard that there was a coast-wise way of returning 
to Georgetown; threading little-known rivers and creeks in 
a small canoe. The idea of exploring those charming little 
creeks at which all through the journey we had looked with 
longing, was fascinating to us, and we owe this realization of 
our dreams to Mrs. Wilshire, who planned the trip and gave 
it tous asa surprise. This proved to be the most wonderful 
canoe voyage which any of us had ever taken. Fox five days 
we were paddled, portaged, towed and pushed through a 
wonderland abounding in rarely beautiful birds, butterflies 
and orchids. We slept at night under our tiny tarpaulin, or 
invaded, and were made welcome at little isolated Indian 
missions. Our pen falters at the thought of attempting to 
give any idea of the wonders of that trip, but day by day we 
set down our impressions as best we could and here are some 
of them. 

It was almost noon on the 16th of March before we had 
our men, luggage and canoe in readiness to start. Pushing 
off we said good-by to the rest of the party; including Cran- 
dall and his precious cargo of Red-backed Cassiques and 
other live birds. ‘They were to return via Morawhanna and 
the ‘ Mazaruni”’ direct to Georgetown. 

We secured a little canoe, or ballyhoo, about fifteen feet 
long, with a tarpaulin stretched over the centre. In the 
bow were four Indian paddlers, two men and two boys, 
while in the stern as steersman and paddler was a splendidly 
built Carib Indian, Marciano, chief of the Hoorie woodmen. 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


216 


asnoy s 


‘ 


WOANUVY WOU AAAI 


VNVUVG ‘68 ‘Oly 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 257 


Amidships was piled our luggage and we distributed our- 
selves over and around the clothing bags and larder boxes. 
Mr. and Mrs. Wilshire and we two composed the list of 
passengers, and the unceasing pleasure of those five days 
was a good test of mutual congeniality and adaptability to 
“bush-travel,” 

The stroke adopted by our Indians was a peculiar one, which 
we were to hear all day and often throughout the night, for 
these men of the wilderness, short and stocky in build, 
seemed tireless, and hour after hour they would keep hard at 
work, sometimes for as much as thirty-six hours at a stretch, 
with only a brief nap or two. 

The Indian paddle rhythm set by little Pedro, the younger 
boy in the bow, accentuated every other stroke, the tempo of 
the strokes becoming more and more rapid, until, when further 
speed was impossible, one stroke was suddenly omitted, and 
the gap thus formed marked the new slow tempo, which in 
turn, in the course of fifteen to twenty strokes of the paddle, 
would work up to a climax and the former rhythm begin 
again. All kept perfect time, the new change not being 
inaugurated on any exact stroke, but the others seeming to 
know instinctively when it would come. Whether they were 
eating, talking or looking behind them it was the same, all 
changed as one man. 

Two or three hours after starting, we made a landing in 
order that the Indians could cook their breakfast, invariably 
composed of a combination of pork, dried fish, rice and 
cassava. This menu was varied only when one or more of 
the ingredients happened not to be procurable. Sometimes 
for many days the Guiana Indians worked hard upon nothing 
but cassava. The jungle was thick about the little clearing 
which they made for a fire, and word passed rapidly along 
the lines of parasol ants that manna was available in the 
form of rice and bread crumbs. A few minutes after a bit 


218 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


of food was thrown down it would mysteriously take legs to 
itself and begin to walk away, the motor power being myriads 
of these interesting insects. Big-headed soldiers patrolled 
all along the winding trail of foragers, troubling no one un- 
less they were disturbed or the workers attacked. Several 
species of orchids, Brassias and others unknown to us, were 
in blossom all about us. 

On we went again, becoming more and more delighted 
with our method of travel. There was no puffing, smelly 
kerosene engine, no clatter of many tongues; and we were 
close to the water with nothing overhead between us and 
the sky, or the overhanging branches. The typical river 
birds paid little attention to our silent craft; and we were 
able to watch Giant Kingfishers,® Guiana Cormorants,” 
Snake-birds,* Parrakeets and Swallows at close range. 

In sheltered places along the bank our canoe pushed 
through unbroken masses of the floating rosettes of leaves, 
known as the Shell Flower (P7stza stratiodes). The leaves are 
shell-shaped, thick, strongly ribbed and light velvety green 
in color, covered with a coat of short, dense hairs which 
repel the water so that when pushed beneath the surface the 
plant bobs up as dry as before. Thousands of these little 
plants become detached from their sheltered bays and are 
carried out to sea where they decay and disappear. Small 
Water Hyacinths were less common. 

The river was full from recent rains in the interior, and 
in some places for several hundred yards the surface was 
thickly covered with innumerable smal] yellow blossoms 
splashed with scarlet at their hearts, while every now and then 
a large purple pea-blossom would be seen. These had 
doubtless fallen from the tree-tops where the river was 
narrower and the vines and branches overhung the stream. 
Many insects were carried down afloat on the blossoms and 
now and then a great hairy tarantula would appear, with 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 219 


each of his eight feet in a blossom, trying to keep his balance 
until he could reach solid ground again. 

Agami Herons,®* beautiful in their plumage of glossy 
green, Chestnut and blue, were standing here and there in 


Fic. 90. SCENE ON THE BARRABARRA. 


the shallows snatching the insects from the petals as they 
floated past. 

At four o’clock in the afternoon we left the Barramanni 
River which had averaged about two hundred feet in width, 


220 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


and entered the charming little Biara, which was only about 
sixty feet from shore to shore. Here the vegetation was very 
dense, water lilies in hundreds with curious, serrated leaves 
and a profusion of the sweetest of flowers. We were pad- 
dling through literally a river of water-lilies. Clavillina 
blooms hung low over our faces; wild cocoa pods showed 
rich brown among the foliage. Mucka-mucka with its great 
heart-shaped leaves was everywhere, a plant which on a 
later trip was to interest us as forming the food of the Hoatzin. 
The air was filled with the sweet penetrating calls of the 
Goldbirds *” and Woodhewers and now and then the puppy- 
like yaps of Toucans.** Pendent nests were numerous, built 
so far out over the water that we could touch them as we 
passed, thus safe from marauding monkey and opossum. 

The stream was dotted with islets, varying from a few 
inches to as many yards in circumference, crowded with 
ferns and graceful sedges, all perfectly reflected in the mirror- 
like water. One such islet of the smallest size was crowned 
with a single-petalled, white calla lily, surrounded by a host 
of tiny purple orchid blossoms; a square foot of perfect 
beauty and perfume set in the ebony water. Seldom were 
we out of sight of flowering orchid, vine, bush or tree. 
Orchids were in the ascendant and our tarpaulin brushed 
against long Golden Showers, graceful shoots of Cattleyas 
and curious green Spider Orchids. 

There seems to be no autumn in this land, and death comes 
only to single leaves, while the variegated scarlet and yellow 
hues of new sprouting foliage made brilliant every bend of 
the stream. The Moriche or Eta Palm is dominant here 
and the vegetation of these lesser streams is dense and bushy, 
—intimate and delightful, rather than grand and awe- 
inspiring as along the forest rim of the Barama. 

Toucans and Ant-birds darted across the water ahead 
of us; tree-ferns stretched out their graceful fronds and 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 221 


sifted their pollen down upon us. The bird songs of this 
region are not long and elaborate, but there was no dearth of 
most delightful, liquid phrases, usually loud and penetrating. 
Six songs, all wholly unlike one another, reached us that day, 
all unknown, mysterious. We steered close to the bank and 
picked a wild cocoa pod but found it unripe and the beans 
had only a raw aroma. ‘Two long-snouted weevils crawled 


Fic. 9t. WAKE OF A MANATEE SWIMMING UP RIVER. 


from the heart of the pod, one of the myriad hidden forms 
of life of this wonderland. 

Now and then we passed a little open grassy savanna 
where the water was no longer brown, but a clear black from 
the steeping of the decaying vegetation. 

In many places the water leaves showed where manatees 
had been browsing, and occasionally we caught sight of the 
huge ungainly creatures, as they swam slowly up stream or 
nosed the vegetation along the bank. 


222 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


All this and much else we passed in an hour, and at five 
o'clock entered a third stream — the Barrabarra. The whole 
country hereabouts 1s swampy, so when at dark we stopped 
for our evening meal we did not land but rested quietly 
among the lily pads. The Indians ate, as they did every- 


FIG. 92. MANATEE BROWSING CLOSE TO THE BANK. 


thing else, silently, with only now and then some low gut- 
tural ejaculation. 

We flashed our powerful electric light upon the lily pads 
and found that the water was full of active life. Scores of 
little fishes were resting motionless in the thin film of water 
covering the lily leaves, some with the basal half of the body 
and two lines up and down from the eyes, black. Marciano 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 223 


called them Salaver. In addition to other very slender fish, 
there were numbers of little fresh-water prawns shooting 
about among the maze of fanwort beneath the pads. The 
glint of strange shapes came to us — tiny Cyclops and others 
which the human eye was powerless to name without a 
microscope. We sat in the darkness listening to the sounds 
of the swampy jungle. Not a mosquito hummed, and the 
frogs eclipsed all other, lesser noises, calling in basso and 
treble, with tinkling bells and a clear ringing chime like the 
eolian singing of a telegraph wire. 

Marciano climbed back to his seat in the stern, gave an 
order and the paddles pushed sluggishly through the pads, 
carrying fear and tumult to thousands of little aquatic lives. 
The next four hours we shall never forget as long as we live. 
On and on we went through the pitchy darkness, guided 
solely by the light of the little bow lantern. The bush ropes 
ahead stood out in sharp silhouette like giant serpents coiled 
in mid-air across our path. The night seemed to press 
in on our tiny atom of life. The shadows of the waving 
arms of the paddlers were thrown on the foliage behind 
the boat, looking like some huge spider-like thing forever 
following it. The sheets and drops of water thrown up by 
the Indians gleamed like molten silver. 

The open savannas increased in size and extended farther on 
each side than the shaft of electric light could carry. Great 
tufts of pampas grass towered high above our heads, drooping 
gracefully outward in all directions. The channel narrowed 
and the lily blossoms increased until the water was thickly 
studded with them. ‘Their odor hung heavy on the air and 
when one of the blossoms itself was smelled, the perfume was 
as sweet and as overpowering as chloroform. During the 
day they had been all but odorless. For miles we pushed 
through the tangle of water plants; in places the men having 
to drag and push the boat over the reeds and grasses, crushing 


» 


SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS 


OUR 


224 


“HAIG OL LNOdV 


aNV 


ay NI ONINVI FALVNV]AL 


"£6 “Oly 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 225 


scores of spider lilies with the keel. This is the back-water 
divide between the rivers which flow northward into the 
Waini and those which flow to the south. During the dry 
season this route becomes impassable. 

Later we came to open pond-like spaces and here we found 
another species of water lily with a smaller flower and a 
smooth-edged leaf with maroon colored under side. Owls, 
large moths and bats occasionally flitted across the field of 
light. 

It was half-past ten at night when Marciano told us that 
we were turning into the Morooka River. We were to follow 
this river down to the very sea, but here it was barely distin- 
guishable as a narrow channel through the grass and reeds. 
Another hour passed and several dark forms loomed up in 
the dim light of our lantern, and when we reached them we 
found that they were boats tied to a rough sort of landing. 

We climbed out and stumbled sleepily about, getting the 
cramped feeling out of our bodies. Then when the Indians 
had tied up the boat and slung our hammock bags over their 
backs, we followed them up the long avenue of lofty cocoanut 
palms which stretched down to the water’s edge. We felt 
our way slowly in the darkness, walking stiffly and uncer- 
tainly after the cramped position in which we had been 
compelled to sit for so many hours. 

At last Marciano held high his lantern and we saw towering 
before us a huge white cross. Instinctively we all paused 
reverently. Whatever one’s faith may be, it is impossible to 
come thus upon the symbol of a great and ancient church, 
standing in the midst of a vast and primeval wilderness, 
without a feeling of awe and reverence. There in the teem- 
ing ceaseless life of the wilderness was the mystery of 
creation: and there stood the white cross, a symbol of man’s 
attempt to solve the tremendous problem of creation and 
immortality. 


226 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


The light revealed a crude little church with an adjoining 
building standing behind the cross. To this other building 
the Indians led us. We knocked gently, then harder, then 
pounded. No response! Half a dozen dogs gathered and 
howled mournfully. At last finding a side door ajar, we 
entered a spacious room, part dining-room, part school-room, 


Fic. 94. A VISTA OF THE BIARA. 


with a loom and a half-finished Indian hammock in one cor- 
ner. We called and shouted, we pounded on the floor and 
walls, and at last from the distance — upstairs — came an 
answering roar. Down to us came the jolliest priest we ever 
hope to meet. Two strange men and women had invaded 
his castle at midnight, routing him out of well-earned rest, 
and yet his welcome was as warm as though we were expected 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 227 


friends. Our jovial host furnished us with lights, and gave 
us permission to sling our hammocks from the rafters of the 
great school-room. About one o'clock in the morning we 
rolled into our swinging couches completely tired out. But 
sleep was not to be had at once. An ominous gritting squeak 
was heard, then another, and our faces were softly fanned by 
invisible wings. “‘Vampires!’’ came the exclamation from 
the furthermost hammock. ‘“‘ Never mind them,” answered 
a sleepy voice from Mr. Wilshire’s hammock; ‘doctors say 
bleeding is healthful!’ The scientist echoed his sentiments 
but,in vain. We had to dive down into the clothing bags and 
pull out the hammock nets. Now these articles are some- 
what difficult to adjust under the best of conditions and this 
night they were perversity itself. 

We found that in the packing at Hoorie, the nets had 
become mixed and two were of an unknown pattern, with 
apparently no entrance hoie except at the ends. A hammock 
net is shaped like a buttoned up coat with the hammock 
running through the sleeve portions. It is an acrobatic feat 
not soon to be forgotten, when one is dead tired and in the 
dark, and has to enter his net by climbing up to the end of 
the hammock rope and sliding down through a small, long 
shute of netting! It was two in the morning before we were 
settled, and as we finally dropped asleep a score of fierce 
little demon faces were squeaking and gibbering at us. 

At six o’clock the following morning we were awakened 
by a dozen little naked Indian boys flitting silently about, 
peering at us like tiny copper elves, or like human incarnations 
of the bats which had hovered about us during the night. 
Going outdoors in the dusk we heard a perfect medley of 
bird notes, Wrens, Thrushes, Tanagers, Seedeaters, all giving 
voice at once, while from the farther end of the cocoanut walk 
came a chorus from a colony of Yellow-backed Cassiques.™ 
We saw the mission cat teasing something and took from her 


228 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


a tiny oppossum with fur of richest brown, and no larger 
than a mouse. The little creature was unhurt, but played 
‘possum until it recovered from its fear when it made itself at 
home in a small suitcase. 

When our jolly priest appeared to wish us good-morning, 
the little Indian lads bowed their bronze figures reverently and 


Fic. 95. FATHER GILLETT AND HIS INDIAN Boys. 


kissed his hand. Some of them busied themselves weaving 
a hammock, while others set the table and later served us at 
breakfast. Our priest was like the genial monk of a medie- 
val story. He was delightful with his tribe of small Indian 
boys, ordering them about in a great voice but with his eyes 
beaming with affection for them. ‘Man alive!”’ he would 
shout, “‘bring the finger-bowls!’’ And to our amazement, 
the wee naked valet not only knew what finger-bowls were, 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 229 


but actually produced them, passing them around the table 
with colossal dignity. | 

“That man’s a linguist,” the Father added; “he speaks 
English, Spanish and several Indian dialects.”’ 

The good Father’s heart was overflowing with kindness 
toward every living thing. He could not even bear to see 
his cat waiting hungrily for her breakfast, but ordered his 
small butler at once to give her some milk. 

We wondered why the Father’s Indian boys had such 
straight, slim, well-proportioned figures, instead of the un- 
wieldy “‘cassava-stomachs” so characteristic of the little 
savage Indians. With a twinkle in his eye the Father told 
us that his first step in converting the small Indian lad to 
Christianity was a huge dose of castor oil; then regular hours 
and regular meals of nourishing food, instead of allowing 
them to munch cassava all day. Then one might proceed 
by teaching them the doctrine, and always a useful trade, 
while after that was achieved there was plenty of time for a 
more literary education, if the individual warranted it. He 
had reason to be proud of his method, for in all our travels 
we never met a missionary whose works ‘spoke louder” 
than those of Father Gillett; for the most successful and 
worthy Indians in the colony had been trained by him. 
Some of them had become excellent engineers, others priests 
and still others had learned good trades. 

After breakfast the Father took us through the chapel, 
followed by his dusky little tribe, all crossing themselves 
piously before the altar. He showed us with pride the 
decorations of the altar and the ceiling, all the work of him- 
self and his little Indians. The ceiling represented the dome 
of heaven, bright blue, and dotted with a multitude of white 
stars. 

When we called our little Pedro, the youngest of our In- 
dian paddlers, to tell Marciano that we were ready, Father 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


AONVIMAXAT IVOIMdoUy 


96 


oly 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 231 


Gillett’s eyes filled with tears and he said, ‘Is your name 
Pedro? I lost a lovely Pedro. He died of fever last Easter. 
I did not know I could miss him so much. He used to talk 
to me. He was not like other Indian boys. He loved to 
talk.” Then turning to us he added simply, “ It is a lonely 
life sometimes, you know.” 

We were told that white women had never before passed 
through that part of British Guiana. So unexpectedly did 
we arrive at midnight, and so early did we depart next morn- 
ing that perhaps our visit seems as unreal to the good Father 
as it sometimes does to us —like a very vivid dream which we 
can never forget. He loaded us with gifts of cocoanuts and 
fruit and in the fresh coolness of early morning we again set 
forth on our journey. 

Just as we were paddling away, the Father ordered all his 
small boys into the water for their regular morning swim. 
Head first they went, splashing about as gayly as a school 
of strange copper-colored fish. 

We found as we went on that the Marooka changed 
rapidly in character. It was no wider but the water lilies 
and pampas grass disappeared and a softer, finer grass 
covered the marsh, dotted with a host of purple and yellow 
flowers rising from some aquatic plant. Isolated trees be- 
came more numerous, and great Woodpeckers, resembling 
our splendid Ivory-bills, looped here and there. Swallow- 
tailed Kites * dipped and soared and Kiskadees  shrieked 
near the occasional huts of the Indians. 

At noon we lunched on erbswurst and jam at a Protest- 
ant Mission — Warramuri — where a small colony of Red- 
backed Cassiques were established. A school of about fifty 
Indian children were studying and reciting at the top of 
their lungs. 

We left in an hour and from here on the Marooka widened 
and consequently lost somewhat in interest. The low eleva- 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


232 


(‘weysurg <q 0j0Yd) 


‘WVHaLS V JO HNVG UHL NO vavaaAdvg °46 ‘ong 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. tee 


tion on which the English Mission is built is composed 
wholly of fine white sand, and beyond this mangroves began 
to appear and the foliage became less diversified. 

We landed for an hour at a small cocoanut plantation and 
found a most ingenious method of improving time and space 
until the main crops should yield. Rice was planted in long 
narrow trenches which are flooded twice a day. Between 
these trenches the young cocoanut palms are placed, and in 
the spaces separating the palms, cassava and coffee are 
grown, while between them in turn and around the edge of 
the trenches were plantain and tania. The catch crops are 
thus made to pay for the price of the land and labor. Land 
— virgin forest —can be empoldered and ditched for $35 
an acre. The first year’s two rice crops will repay this and 
continue to do so for five years, when the cocoanuts will yield 
a regular income for fifty or sixty years. This, at least, is the 
calculation of the agriculturist. 

Deer, peccaries and capybara are found on this little 
clearing, and we saw several of the latter animals running 
about among the underbrush on the bank. Mealy Amazon 
Parrots were nesting in an inaccessible stub. Ant-birds 
of several species were by far the most abundant birds. 
Everywhere the undergrowth was flaming with sharp-pointed 
scarlet blossoms on long stalks which a native called Wild 
Plantains. 

Below the plantation, mangroves composed the only vege- 
tation visible along the banks of the river, and before long 
our canoe began to rise and fall with the swell of the sea. 
For days the smell of the damp tropical marshes had filled 
the air, and now we sniffed eagerly at the invigorating salt 
breeze. We lowered the tarpaulin, tied everything fast and 
prepared bailers under the direction of Marciano. 

At last, rounding a curve of the river we came in sight 
of the sea—a vast stretch of turbulent brown water. A 


234 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Cocoi Heron * and an American Egret * flew away with pro- 
testing croaks, and we began to pitch and toss as we turned 
south, beyond the outermost sprawling mangrove roots. 

We had been warned on no account to make this part of 
the trip with other than full-blooded Indian paddlers, and 
when we saw the need for steady, skilful work, we were in- 
deed glad that we had Marciano and his good crew. ‘The 
waves were too muddy to break, but they rolled high over 
the low rail of our canoe and we were soon soaked through 
and had to bail steadily to keep the frail craft from filling. 
In the midst of all the excitement three splendid Flamingos 
flew overhead, one close behind the other, necks and legs 
extended to the full. We watched them until our eyes ached, 
and then a dash of several quarts of salt, muddy water in our 
faces, brought us suddenly back to grim reality. After we 
had paddled three or four miles, we entered the broad mouth 
of the Pomeroon, turned close in along shore and finding a 
sheltered bight, waited for the turning of the tide and to 
give our Indians a much-needed rest. The heavily laden 
canoe had given them a hard paddle against wind and tide, 
and we were to travel onward throughout all the night. 

As dusk settled down a Frigate-bird “” swooped past, fol- 
lowed by a large flock of several hundred Boat-billed Herons 
croaking like their relatives the Night Herons, and on their 
way doubtless from some roosting place to their nocturnal 
feeding grounds; for as they reached the water they scat- 
tered, some going up the river, others along the shore. 

From the east, straight across the whole width of the 
Pomeroon came another great flocking, a host of Mealy 
Amazon Parrots® flying as usual two and two close to- 
gether —by hundreds and by thousands. They turned 
south along our bank and ‘flew inland, and were joined, 
almost over the spot where our canoe was moored, by 
another great multitude of their kind, coming steadily down 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 235 


the coast. At the very lowest estimate there were eight or 
ten thousand parrots. Once and only once we saw a soli- 
tary individual unaccompanied by a mate. While still in 
view he attempted to attach himself to a pair of birds, where- 
upon both dashed at the unfortunate intruder and drove 
him headlong out of sight below the level of the branches. 
It is indeed a serious thing to loose one’s mate if one is a 
parrot! To be a widow or a widower is to be an outcast. 

At ten minutes past six the parrots vanished in the dusk 
and true to its name a “six o’clock bee,”’ a species of large 
cicada, sent out its shrill whistle from the mangrove to 
which our canoe was tied. Here for the first time since 
we left Farnum’s we encountered mosquitoes and sand flies, 
but oil of tar did much to discourage them. It is a curious 
fact that although the prevailing wind blows in the direction 
from which we had come, yet these troublesome insects are 
said never to pass beyond the line of the Pomeroon’s mouth. 

After an hour of paddling we stopped for a supply of 
water at a tiny Portuguese store built on piles, and going by 
the name of Poc-a-poo. It was a weird little place with 
rows of tiny shelves on which were bottles of lemon soda 
which was remarkably good, and an assortment of ribbons, 
knives and paddles for trade with the Indians. We pur- 
chased some well-made Carib Indian baskets and, stum- 
bling over a caged Guan® or Maroodie as they called it, 
ordered it sent to Georgetown, where it appeared the fol- 
lowing week and is now a contented inmate of the New 
York Zoological Park. 

At nine o’clock we started on our all-night paddle up the 
Pomeroon. Like most tropical nights near the sea the air 
was chilly. We rolled up in our blankets, and anointed our 
faces with the tar oil. The scientist chose as his night’s 
couch one of the long sloping side seats. The slope was 
only a fraction of a degree, but gravity and drowsiness would 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


(‘weysuig Aq ojoyq) 


‘SHNOISSVD NAGA) AO SISAN ANV ‘ASNO—, AAHOLVHY, NVOIMANY HINOS 96 ‘or, 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 237 


invariably cause the downfall of the occupant of the seat, 
much to the disturbance of the canoe’s equilibrium. 

As we lay and listened to the strange rhythm of the pad- 
dles, and watched the brown current swash past the side of 
the boat, we thought of all the exciting scenes this river and 
this coast had witnessed: —the ill-fated search for El Dorado 
by Sir Walter Raleigh; then the capture and recapture of the 
colony no less than three times by Dutch and British. Later 
came a period of great prosperity when hundreds of sugar 
plantations yielded great profits to their owners and the social 
life was as gay as that of our old Virginia. Then followed the 
ruin of the sugar industry, bands of run-away slaves taking 
to the wilderness; and now to-day, the chimneys of the old 
mills are often the only marks of former civilization which 
the jungle has not obliterated. 

We skirted the mangroves for hours and saw nothing but 
an endless succession of those weird stilted plants, while 
scores of four-eyed fish skipped and slithered over the mud, 
or dashed across our bow, attracted by the glow of our lan- 
tern. In the electric light they looked pale and ghostly 
against the black mud. 

At midnight we passed a light which showed the location 
of Marlborough. Police Station. ‘Two hours later we heard 
weird music from a tom-tom and a four-toned fife or flute. 
Crude as it was, it had a wild melody and the syncopated, 
or “‘rag,’’ time was perfect. We could see the hut near the 
water and hear the shouts of the dancers as we passed down 
the centre of the river. We were hailed by a canoe of half- 
drunken negroes who put off and wished to accompany us 
up the river. Marciano gave a low command and one of 
the Indians muffled the lantern; then all swung together in 
a new rhythm — the full-speed paddle-rhythm of the Caribs 
—and we fairly flew through the water. After every five 
minutes spurt our crew rested for a few seconds to locate our 


2308 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


unwelcome pursuers. At first they cursed us and paddled 
furiously, but their tipsy efforts were no match for our lithe 
red-men and the negroes soon dropped out of sight and 
hearing. 

There was no moon but throughout all the night when- 
ever we awoke, the southern cross gleamed brilliantly down 
at us, and almost in the zenith Orion stood ever poised in his 
gigantic stride. As usual frogs and toads furnished most 
of the nocturnal music, and we spent an hour or more in 
classifying the various utterances. Among them was the 
Telegraph Toad who spoke in a regular make-and-break 
Morse code, sending his wireless messages to his mate. 
Another, heard more rarely, was what we called the Wing- 
beat Frog. This species gave out a muffled throbbing roar 
like the hurried wing-beats of a Swan in full flight. It would 
last for five seconds, to be answered instantly by another 
across the river. 

From the wonderland of the narrow Biara, we had come 
out upon the boundless expanse of the ocean, passing thence 
to this splendid river a half mile across. But we had far 
from finished the experiences and variety of this ever-to-be 
remembered trip. 

At daybreak we pushed through a tangled mass of lilies 
and water hyacinths into a tiny cafio or creek, and in a 
soft rain, while the tired Indians slept beneath protecting 
palm leaves, we cooked erbswurst and cocoa. The morning 
chorus was infinitely sweet, from flocks of invisible song- 
sters, —a trembling descending chord of three notes, rising 
at the end in a plaintive, questioning way. 

At eight o’clock we went on again, the Indians apparently 
perfectly rested after their two hours’ sleep. The Pomeroon 
narrowed to about a hundred yards, mangroves disappeared 
and mucka-mucka with its oblong, pineapple-like fruit, 
took their place. Flowers were abundant, —white convol- 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 239 


vulus; wild sorrel, pink with deep carollas; large yellow blos- 
soms with scarlet hearts, and many other varieties. Four- 
eyed fish were still common and Great Rufous Cuckoos,” 
Lesser Kiskadees ** and Swallow-tailed Kites ** were build- 
ing nests. 


Fic. 99. MILEs oF LILIEs. 


At Pickersgill Police Station we stopped for lunch. ‘These 
posts are the sole representatives of law and order in the 
wilderness, and here the semi-military organization of negro 
police have their quarters. Most of them are men of unusu- 
ally large size, and in disposition they are pleasant and 
obliging. ‘They never failed to do their best to make us com- 
fortable. ‘The duty of these men is varied. Besides being 
responsible for the good conduct of the inhabitants of their 


240 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


districts, they keep account of shipments and all passing 
boats and passengers, and stand ready to run down, or rather 
paddle down, fugitives from justice. At each post are little 
rooms reserved for travellers, and here any strangers with 
proper credentials are at liberty to swing their hammocks and 
make themselves at home. ‘The sergeant had just trapped 
a half dozen pretty blue and yellow Violet Euphonia Tan- 
agers '“° ina mango tree near the station. The usual colony 
of Yellow-backed Cassiques '' was deserted at the time of 
our visit, but had been occupied twice during the last year. 
Lying half in the water in front of the house was an anaconda 
fifteen feet long which had just been shot. We purchased 
thirty bananas for fourpence, and with fried bananas and 
bacon, the unfailing and never cloying erbswurst, jam, 
educator crackers and lime squash, we had a meal fit for the 
gods. 

At this point we left the Pomeroon and turned up the 
Harlipiaka for two hours, then into the last real river of our 
trip, the Tapakuma. ‘This river was only about seventy-five 
feet wide and with vegetation neither grand nor very luxuri- 
ant, principally eta palms and mucka-mucka. Wild cocoa 
and clavillina blossoms were everywhere and numerous Lesser 
Kiskadees * were building. Many small, deserted estates 
appeared as the river grew narrower, and morpho butter- 
flies and Silver-beak Tanagers '” haunted the half-overgrown 
ruins. Catching sight of a snake on an overhanging branch, 
we persuaded Marciano to steer close to it, but as we reached 
out to seize it, our Indian’s fears overcame him and he swung 
out quickly, the serpent making its escape into the water. 
It was a harmless species about five feet long, and yellow- 
brown in color. With the exception of the dead anaconda, 
it was the only snake we had seen on our trip. When we 
commented on this, Marciano relieved his feelings in two 
words, ‘‘ Me glad!” 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 241 


It was dead high tide, although the water was fresh — 
backed up by the salt tide farther down. The surface 
seemed to be covered with rubbish, and at first glance it 
looked as unsavoury as the water in a New York ferry slip! 
But when we examined it, the flotsam proved to be composed 
of a host of various nuts and seeds, many of which were 
beginning to send out roots and leaflets. They were of all 
shapes and sizes — from large flat disk-like pods and round 
vegetable-ivory nuts, to smaller ones covered with corrugated 
husks, fluted or polished like metal. 

The river became still more narrow, and twisted and turned 
to every point of the compass. Flowers were abundant and 
we noted at least twenty species with large and conspicuous 
blooms. <A _ blue-bell blossom was especially characteristic 
of the Tapakuma, growing up from the water six to thirty 
inches. ‘There were few lilies and the predominating tree 
was one with sensitive foliage, which went to sleep in the 
late afternoon. Several species of orchids in full flower were 
common, and from one branch we pulled into the canoe a 
string of a dozen plants of a most fragrant white orchid — 
Epidendrum nocturnum. ‘The whole region was very different 
from that of the Biara but no less interesting. 

Just before sunset we came to the fairyland of Tapakuma 
Lake. We had zigzagged through many miles of tortuous 
channels, with copper-colored Indian hunters passing us now 
and then, silently in their small canoes. At last we came 
to a portage—a gentle slope up which our canoe was 
dragged, over the divide and into the great grassy expanse 
of water savanna, in the centre of which is the dark deep 
lake. 

We walked a few yards into the woods to see some “ falls”’ 
which turned out to be only a moderately foamy rapid, and 
on the way we disturbed a large troop of monkeys which 
limbed off slowly through the branches; and then hurried 


242 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


back to our boat, for we were still far from Anna Regina, 
where we planned to spend the night. 

On and on we went, the darkness settling quickly down. 
A new Castanet Frog raised its voice. ‘This was really 
remarkable — a syncopated Oriental rhythm, clicking musi- 
cally, and held by one frog for only a minute or two when 
another instantly took up the little tune. ‘This shifting of 
place, the music sounding first here, then farther on, made 
it seem as if some invisible dancer were swiftly whirling over 
the reeds and tules. One could hear the clicking of the cas- 
tanets and the tinkling of anklets, and the thought was made 
more vivid as a bejewelled coolie woman passed us in a long 
narrow dug-out, paddled swiftly by her husband. 

The water was very high and a wide new channel among the 
grasses so confused Marciano that we paddled for an hour 
before we realized that we were lost. We changed direction 
and guided ourselves by the stars, passing some dense grass 
through which we had to push laboriously. At last Marciano 
sent a clear, penetrating call through the night and the coolie 
answered, far ahead and to the left. We called twice after 
that and then came into a canal, and soon were alongside 
two canoes blocked by a lock. We would have as soon ex- 
pected to find a motor car here in the wilderness as a canal 
lock, but nevertheless there was a canal lock with no one to 
operate it. By our combined efforts we opened it, passed 
through and found ourselves surrounded by miles of sugar- 
cane fields. We had entered the back door, as it were, of the 
great sugar plantation of Anna Regina, one of the few which 
are still in operation. We were on the home stretch and the 
Indian boys towed us the remaining distance, running at full 
speed, tumbling head over heels into the water; and forgetting 
for once their usual Indian stolidness, they giggled and chat- 
tered as if they were out for a lark, instead of having paddled a 
heavily laden canoe on thirty-six hour stretches! 


THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 243 


At midnight we reached the end of the canal, and a hundred 
yards up a road we found the Anna Regina police station. 
The guard turned out, cleared away the judge’s bench and 
witness box in the courtroom and laid blankets for us on the 
benches, as there were no rafters for our hammock ropes. 
Our Indians would not come near the dreaded prison house, 
but left our baggage at the entrance. They said good-by as 
they were to start back at once. We had grown to have a 
real affection for these simple men and boys, and found them 


Fic. 100. THE ROAD TO SUDDIE. 


the best of travelling companions, silent, courteous and 
wonderful workers. May the time come when Marciano 
will again pilot us through that beautiful region to which no 
pen or camera can do the slightest justice! 

The following morning after a walk through the neighbor- 
ing coolie village of Henrietta, where we purchased some 
Yellow-bellied Callistes ' and other birds, we secured a 
carriage, with a horse and a mule as motor power, and drove 
to Suddie, taking the steamer thence down the Essequibo 
River to Georgetown. 


CHAPTER: Vie 


THE WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO 
AREMU. 


E allowed ourselves only forty-eight hours in George- 

town to unpack our specimens and prepare for our 

second expedition into the ‘‘bush.” This time we were 

to leave the coast and strike straight inland, passing up the 

Essequibo River to Bartica, thence via the Mazaruni and 

Cuyuni to the Aremu and the Little Aremu rivers. Near 

the head-waters of this last stream was the gold mine which 
marked our journey’s end, deep within the wilderness. 

On the morning of March 23d, we left Georgetown on one 
of Sproston’s steamers en route for Bartica. A pair of Gray- 
breasted Martins ** accompanied us, and we found that they 
were nesting in an angle between two beams of the main 
deck covering. Young birds were in the nest, so the Martins 
must have accompanied the steamer on many of the alternate 
day trips between Georgetown and Bartica. Not only this 
but the river boat exchanges routes every two weeks with 
her sister steamer which is plying on the outside northwest 
route to Morawhanna, the fortnightly change from fresh to 
salt water doing away with all need for keel cleaning. So 
these birds had started their nest while the boat was making 
her sea trips. During much of the time we were on the boats 
the birds kept flying out to each side over the water in pur- 
suit of insects for their brood. ‘They sometimes went far 
ahead or out of sight a half mile to shore. | 

After entering the wide estuary mouth of the Essequibo 
we passed Leguan and Hog islands, each over ten miles in 

244 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 245 


length, while above these a succession of smaller islands 
appeared. The river is about three miles in width, fringed 
with mangroves, and we saw no life on shore save occasional 
Cocoi Herons * feeding on the flats. 

The Essequibo is the largest river in the colony and rises 
in the extreme south, somewhere in the Acarai Mountains 
near the equator, some six hundred miles inland. Like all 
the great rivers of this region it is navigable by steamers for 


Fic. 101. GRAY-BREASTED MARTINS NESTING ON THE STEAMER. 


only a short distance, rapids and cataracts barring the way 
about fifty miles above the mouth. ‘The first great tributary 
is the Mazaruni, entering from the southwest and touch- 
ing with its uttermost head-waters the very base of that 
mysterious lofty plateau, Roraima, on the borders ‘of 
Brazil. 

We landed at the very apex of the point of land between 
the Essequibo and Mazaruni rivers, — the village of Bartica 
or Bartica Grove. It is a most dilapidated place, half in 


246 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


ruins, a single street of miserable houses filled with blacks 
and coolies. 

We were invited to spend the night at the house of an 
Englishman, Mr. Withers, enjoying again the unfailing 
hospitality of the wilderness. In a launch we proceeded 
three miles up the Mazaruni, and climbing a steep hill, 
denuded of its forest, we turned and revelled in the magnifi- 
cent view. A small, heavily-wooded island in the foreground 
broke the surface of the shining waters, and beyond, the two 
mighty rivers rolled ceaselessly, joining their floods with 
hardly a ripple. Directly across, on the opposite shore of 
the Mazaruni, the picturesque white buildings of the penal 
colony could be seen, looking more like the hotels and cottages 
of some watering place than like prisons. If one must be 
imprisoned for life there are few places one would prefer 
to this! 

An American company had obtained a concession of some 
seven thousand acres for the purpose of raising sisel hemp, 
and Mr. Withers was in charge of this important under- 
taking. His home, on the crest of the hill, overlooked the 
surrounding rolling country, six hundred acres of which had 
already been cleared during the preceding nine months and 
planted in the valuable fibre plant. Here again we found a 
most ingenious system of catch crops, peanuts, castor beans 
and corn, surrounding but not interfering with the slower 
srowing sisel. Their success was yet to be proven. 

A careful study of the effect on animal and plant life of 
this clearing away of the forest would yield much of interest. 
Many sloths with young were caught when the trees were 
being felled, and Goldbirds, Woodhewers, Parrots and other 
forest birds had now retired some distance from the clearing. 
The antlers of two deer shot here were simple spikes. Insects 
of all kinds had greatly increased, and caterpillars of strange 
shapes and colors were legion in number and doing their 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 247 


best to undo the labor of the agriculturists. Insect-eating 
birds of certain types had increased enormously, and Gray- 
breasted Martins,’”? Barn’’’ and Variegated ** Swallows filled 
the air, while Kiskadee Tyrants of three species,'®' 1% 1% 
other Flycatchers, House Wrens,”* Seedeaters, Hummingbirds 
and Honey Creepers were abundant, swooping over the open 
fields, snatching insects from the air, or leaves, or ground, 
according to the method of hunting of each species. The 


Fic. 102. COOLIES AND THEIR WIVES FISHING IN THE ESSEQUIBO. 


Honey Creepers *”* were continually getting into trouble here 


as elsewhere in the darkened upper roof space of the house, 
and many had to be caught and liberated daily. 

Small snakes and toads are also said to have increased, due 
doubtless to the increase of insect food, but the abundance 
of agoutis or acouris was unfortunately only too evidently 
due to the supply of succulent vegetables. 

This evening the regular afternoon wind continued until 


248 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


late, and it was too cool to walk about without a coat. The 
wind sounded anything but tropical, howling around the 
eaves of the house like a northern blizzard. ‘The moon rose 
about nine o’clock—a great flat-sided ball of orange, 
lighting up the pale bare fields but throwing all the jungle 
into blackest shadow. Soon the light became stronger and 
the two southern crosses paled from view, the false one 
higher up, kite like, and the vera cruz, low and resting on its 
side. 

‘“Sproston’s” is a company which controls many of the 
steamer and launch lines of the colony, and gives remarkably 
good as well as reasonable service. When the day comes 
that the tourist learns of the beauties of this country, the 
transportation lines will become of immense value. Now 
they depend principally on the many American concessions 
and other interests for freight, and upon pork-knockers and 
bovianders for passengers. 

At nine o’clock on the following morning, travelling again 
on one of Sproston’s launches, we left Mr. Withers and 
proceeded up the Mazaruni, in about an hour reaching the 
point of its confluence with the Cuyuni. ‘This was as beauti- 
ful as the junction of the Essequibo and the Mazaruni which 
we had left. Turning up the Cuyuni we went on and on 
through a region of indescribable beauty. The noble river 
spreads out in a wide smooth expanse, — a tropical Hudson 
with palisades of trees. It is very shallow and when the 
water is low there is little but tide at this point. Hence 
mangroves are dominant, becoming, however, smaller and 
less numerous as we proceeded. At eleven o'clock we 
reached the beautiful falls at Lower Camaria Landing and 
went ashore to find a delicious breakfast prepared for us 
by the genial and hospitable Mr. French and served by his 
aged man-servant, who was christened Swan, but who was 
familiarly known throughout the colony as ‘“‘French’s Boy.” 


249 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 


‘VIMVAV) YTMOT LV STIVY “COI ‘oI 


250 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


At Camaria a series of all but impassable rapids and 
falls occurs, and a portage of three and a half miles is neces- 
sary. A well-made sandy wagon trail points the way, rising 
gradually and then slowly descending again. At the top of 
the rise the sand is of the finest and whitest quality. Butter- 
flies were extremely abundant along this wood road, a dozen 
splendid blue Morphos being sometimes in sight at once. 

One interesting species of butterfly (Castina licus) was 
very common, flying along ahead of us with short spurts 
and alighting on bare twigs, just within the shadow of the 
jungle. They were dark brownish above, tinted with dull 
orange and green and with four broad streaks of white across; 
the wings. They were perfectly protected in the positions of 
rest which they chose on small bare twigs, the brown merg- 
ing invisibly with the dark recesses of the undergrowth beyond, 
while the white markings exactly simulated a white orchid 
blossom, sprouting, as so many of them do, from a leafless 
stem. As the mule cart passed laden with our luggage, we 
seized the Graflex camera and secured the accompanying 
photograph. In spite of their protective colors and mode 
of resting, the wings of almost all had been nipped by birds, 
and we saw one fall a victim to a Flycatcher. The char- 
acteristic birds of this trail were Swallow-tailed Kites * and 
Yellow-bellied Trogons,” the former soaring overhead every 
few minutes and the latter dashing from cluster to cluster of 
berries. 

In the middle of the afternoon our walk brought us to 
Upper Camaria,. where we were again on the bank of the 
Cuyuni. Here, tied to a gigantic Mora tree, a second launch 
awaited us, and from here to our second night’s stopping 
place at Matope we stopped only once, at Tiger Island, to 
take a few “pork-knockers”’ on board. Although there were 
only three small, hut-like houses here, there was the invari- 
able colony of Yellow-backed Cassiques.’* 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 251 


The tide was blocked by the succession of falls and rapids, 
and so at Upper Camaria the whole character of the vegeta- 
tion was changed. Mangroves had vanished and in their 
place were mucka-mucka and other aquatic growths, backed 
by the solid walls of trees and vines. 


Fic. 104. A BUTTERFLY MIMICKING AN ORCHID. 


Snakebirds * were perched in solitary state at frequent 
intervals along the banks, — silent, sinister looking, craning 
their necks out at us and either dropping quietly into the 
water and sinking from view or flapping heavily upward. 
Ordinarily their flight is very pelican-like; six or eight flaps, 
then a short scale, but when they once reach a high altitude, 
they soar most gracefully with set wings, first in a wide, slow 


252 -OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


circle, then with a sudden straight rush, then a circle and so 
on, all apparently without a single wing beat. When thus high 
in air they have a most peculiar arrow-shaped appearance; 
thin sharp beak, slender neck and body, and broad, fan- 
shaped tail. 

While the launch was puffing slowly along we saw one 
of the most unexpected sights of the trip —a fresh-water 
flying fish Carnegiella strigatus. It did not leave the sur- 
face entirely but skimmed steadily along in a straight line 
with the tip of the deep keel of the abdomen just cutting the 


FIG. 105. FRESH-WATER FLYING FIsH. 


surface. It was small, not more than two inches long, and 
of the greatest interest to us at that time, as we did not then 
know that such a thing as a fresh-water flying fish existed. 
To see a silvery little form break from the mirror-like surface 
of the river and go skimming off through the air left us amazed. 

Thesez fish were silvery in color, marked with irregular 
black markings, with long, wing-like pectoral fins and a 
remarkably deep keel, like the keel of a racing yacht. 

As we went on, the walls of foliage became higher and more 
dense, stretching up, far up above our heads, until the topmost 
branches were from one hundred to one hundred and twenty- 
five feet above the water. Majestic vistas opened out ahead 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 253 


of us, and now and then great solid banks of flowers hung like 
huge tapestries upon the foliage walls. One white flower with 
a plume-like tuft of long slender stamens, filled whole bends 
of the river with its sweet perfume and formed aérial banks 
of bloom fifty feet square. We saw here for the first time 
the Green River Ibises * looking dull black in the sunlight. 
They were of the same size as Scarlet Ibises but with a 
shorter tail, and flapped more slowly in flight. 


Fic. 106. SALT-WATER FLYING FISH. 


Just before dusk we reached the house of the government 
agent of this district, Mr. Nicholson, and were made welcome 
at his little home in the heart of the wilderness. The house 
is on a steep bluff of red clay, changing to yellow near the 
water and commanding a fine view up and down the river. 


Below, the river is smooth and shining, while a quarter of 


8 
a mile above the house a mass of tumbling white water blocks 
further progress and marks the second portage. 

In the yard near the house one passes through a cluster of 
young fruit trees and here two small colonies of Yellow 
backed Cassiques' had located, clustering their pendent 
nests almost within arm’s reach about two big nests of sting- 


254 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 
ing ants. At dusk several hundred Smooth-billed Anis *° 
dropped into a clump of bamboo and with much racket and 
squabbling settled for the night. 

This region is wholly undisturbed, the few “‘ pork-knockers” 
and Indians who pass keeping entirely to the river. Mr. 
Nicholson told us that Capybaras (Hydrochoerus capybara) 


Fic. 107. Cuyunr RIVER. 


came every night and raided the vegetable garden, and we had 
good evidence of this. Pushing through the bush a short 
distance downstream at dusk, we saw a small herd of these 
creatures appear and distribute themselves over the banks. 
Some waded along the shallows, or swam out and dived, to 
come up with a mouthful of alge. Others climbed the clay 
slope and disappeared into the jungle. They seemed like 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 255 


reincarnations of some of the great unwieldy prehistoric 
beasts — restorations of those bones by which alone we 
know of their existence in past ages. It was too dark to 
photograph these giant rodents, but by the kindness of 
Dr. Bingham we are able to show several splendid photo- 
graphs of Capybaras, taken in their haunts. 


Fic. 108. A Herp or E1icut Capyparas, Six ADULT AND Two YOUNG. 
Notice the Snout of a Crocodile in the Water on the Left. 


(Photo by Bingham.) 

The Indian hunter at Matope finds abundance of game 
within a mile of the house; two kinds of deer, tapir, peccary, 
and of course Curassows and Guans. Trumpeters ” are often 
heard from the house but are considered too tough for food. 

We talked, chiefly by signs, with the Arowak Indian 
hunter who had just come in with a Bush-hog or Peccary 
(Dicotyles tajacu), As soon as the animal is killed, the gland 


256 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


on the lower back is cut out, a piece of skin being removed 
about four by eight inches. If this is not done immediately, 
the flesh will become musky and unfit to eat. The hunter 
was familiar with the rare White-lipped Peccary (Dicotyles 
labiatus), which he described as larger than the common kind 
and going in small families of two to five individuals. This 
was a dangerous animal, and more than once he had been 
treed by them, whereas the Common Peccary was timid and 
harmless except when wounded or cornered. 

Mr. Nicholson had recently seen a full-grown Great 
Anteater (Myrmecophaga jubata) swimming the river, and 
curiously enough we later witnessed a similar performance 
where the banks were about a third of a mile apart. 
The creature was making fair headway, although drifting 
rapidly, and was completely immersed save for the elon- 
gated snout and head, and the upper part of the bushy tail, 
which waggled frantically with the efforts the anteater was 
making. 

Mr. Nicholson promised to obtain some living Trumpeters 
for us and later kept his word by sending one to New York 
a few months after we left. There are gold diggings near 
here which were worked by the Dutch in 1625. In the earlier 
days of the English occupancy, gold smuggling was an every- 
day occurrence at Bartica, and Mr. Nicholson had to take 
extraordinary precautions to guard against it. He would 
scrape a line under the keel of a boat from stem to stern, by 7 
this means often discovering hidden bags of gold. Many a 
coopful of innocent looking fowls, brought down by the 
“ pork-knockers,”’ 
and found to have their crops and gizzards filled with the 
precious yellow grain. Cartridges were a favorite means of 
smuggling, the powder being removed and replaced with 
gold. There is no longer any attempt at smuggling now as 
it does not pay. 


were slain by the government inspectors 


257 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 


(‘utoques Aq 0}04g) 


‘ADLVALNY Lvaat) ‘Ocr 


258 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Vampires (Desmodus rufus) are so abundant at Matope. 
that every evening one of the servants collects the chair 
cushions on the veranda and packs them under an up- 
turned chair. Otherwise, the dogs, bitten while sleeping on 
these cushions, would ruin them with their blood. We swung 
our hammocks on the veranda and kept one light burning, 
and although the bats squeaked shrilly throughout the night, 
none of us were bitten. 

Early next morning we packed up and set out, and in a 
few minutes a launch landed us at the foot of the falls. This 
portage was only about a hundred yards in length, bringing 
us to Perseverance Landing. Here were several tent-boats, 
most of them filled with ‘“ pork-knockers.”’ We stored our 
luggage in the one reserved for us and climbed into a tent 
ballyhoo with ten paddlers in addition to the bowman and 
steersman — all big, powerful, piratical looking blacks, ex- 
cept the steersman, who was an Indian. Now came the most 
exciting part of our trip, passing up the series of rapids which 
filled the whole bed of the river. It took us until noon to 
pass them. A smooth expanse of water would indicate depth 
sufficient to float a steamer. ‘Then a bar of granite would 
appear, rising on shore into huge boulders and forming a 
series of foaming, tumbling waves across the river. In such 
a place there were numerous small islands and the width 
increased greatly, while the water everywhere was shallow, 
with channels ramifying here and there. 

As we approached one of these rapids the bowman stood 
up and the men braced themselves for the tremendous ex- 
ertion. Starting with a slow, steady stroke, this became 
quicker and quicker as the white water was reached, then 
the bowman, using his long paddle lever-like against the 
thwart, held the ballyhoo steady, while the men drove her 
through the swirling water. The current became stronger 
and stronger, the canoe seemed to slow down, be stationary, 


259 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO. AREMU. 


(an A teste: aie Sin alte a eID tis fiero: 


‘INQDAN?) AHL NO VENOVI, VY ‘Cll ‘Oly 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


260 


INQNAN?) HAL NO SdidvVy 


peli 


OL] 


261 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN. TO AREMU. 


we. 


<* 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


262 


STOOdTUIHA\ UAMO'] AHL HONOUHL 


Ivog 


HHL ONIdUV 


M 


cs 
c 


br 


. 


oly 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 263 


even to slide back a foot or two. Then the great black backs, 
glistening with perspiration, would twist and bend in a final 
effort and the boat would shoot forward into the quiet 
eddy at the foot of the rapid, with the water swirling past 
on each side. 

Now, at a word from the steersman, the blacks tumbled 
overboard, hastily getting out heavy rope cables, which one 
or two of the most powerful took in their teeth or tied around 
their waists and carried to some projecting rock as far ahead 
as possible. After they had fought their way up to the rock 
they tied the rope securely and now all hands took hold, 
some of the rope, others of the boat, and pushed and pulled 
her up through the boiling torrent. 

In one or two cases it was possible to zigzag up through 
the less formidable shallows. After a particularly difficult 
piece of paddling we would rest in some backwater for a few 
minutes and have time to look about us. Every snag held 
its complement of vampires which took to wing only when 
we were very close. Solitary Sandpipers ** and Parauques ’° 
were abundant, the latter apparently nesting on the numerous 
little sand-bars, and swooping near the boat or swinging 
up to a bare branch where they perched lengthwise and 
watched us with half-shut eyes. 

The rocky islets were covered with the low Water Guava 
(Psidium fluviatile), and the rocks which are usually covered 
with shallow water or those within reach of the falls were 
studded with thousands of little starry flowers. In other 
places masses of delicate pink blossoms raised their heads 
above the shining mat of green submerged leaves which 
fairly carpeted the pools. The beds of pink, green and 
white amid the pools reminded us strongly of the many- 
colored sponges, hydroids and anemones in a tidal pool of 
the Bay of Fundy or a reef off a Florida Key. These aquatic 
flowers, far out from shore, gave forth a sweet perfume 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


264 


“SdIdVy AHL dN AVMAIN 


ISaY V 


Fit 


oI 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 265 


attracting flies, bees and even butterflies, which flitted through 
the mist, just clearing the foaming water. 

Now and then small reddish-brown crocodiles were seen 
sunning themselves on the sand-bars. One, not more than 
three feet in length, paid no attention to the revolver shots 
which threw up the water close to him. The little flying 
fish became more numerous as we went on, skimming here 
and there in the smooth pools. Twice we saw one dash at 
an insect, once a large bee and the second time a butterfly, 
but they were less successful in their insect hunting than 
the Swallows — both the Banded '* and the Variegated ''’— 
which swooped across our bow. Whenever we went close to 
a bank we saw multitudes of a new flower, with its graceful 
rebarbed stamens, looking like the falling lines of sparks 
from a rocket. . 

We lunched to-day on a splendid outcropping of rock on 
the left bank, after chasing into the cracks some big and 
remarkably colored tarantulas, with light red bodies and 
dark legs. 

One of the most delightful surprises on this trip was the boat 
songs of the blacks. How we wished afterwards that we had 
written down the words and music at the time. One melody 
remains clear in our memory: 


Adagio. ea 
Se 


$5 ——-- —e : <P ES i OT RY 
Cre fete he fT 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


266 


“AdLV AA HLOONS OL 


dQ FZIONMAIS IVNIY FH], 


SII ‘OI 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 267 


The words of the songs were delightful. One never-ending 
refrain imparted the original and thrilling information that 


“A long time ago is a veree long time.” 


Another song was the Stevedore’s Shantée. Then all 
would break out in a wild harmony. 
“Dat citee hotel is de place wha I dwell, 


Fare thee well — fare thee well — my citee hotel, 
My citee hotel — my citee hotel.” 


The one of which we never tired was all about “Salina — 
mya dear,’ and we made the men sing it over and over until 
they were breathless. 

Like all negroes they were full of spirits and childish humor. 
Their paddling was splendid but terribly wasteful of strength, 
as at the end of each stroke they gave a strong upward jerk, 
sending a shower of drops into the air. Our luggage ballyhoo 
was sometimes abreast of us across the river and when the 
sunlight was reflected from the eight circles of water thrown 
into the air at each stroke, the sight was a beautiful one. 

When we returned several weeks later, the shooting of 
these rapids was as exciting as had been the ascent. There 
was no slow difficult paddling or dragging up of the ballyhoo, 
but a swift shooting downward, giving fleeting views of tall 
walls of verdure, innumerable islets, great smooth-faced rocks 
around which our canoe slid, perilously close, her keel some- 
times scraping the alge on the bottom. We shot here and 
there from side to side of the river, back and forth, guided by 
the stolid-faced Indian in the bow. Now and then we would 
turn completely around in order to keep to a deep channel 
which bent on itself at an acute angle. Then a moment’s 
breathing in slack water before the men gave way again, 
either to hold back with all their might or to put every ounce 
of strength into their work to keep the boat steady in. her 
course, as we ran parallel to a double line of seething, 


268 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


trembling waves, to enter which would have been instant 
destruction. 

We would pass by a half dozen smooth-looking false chan- 
nels, to enter the single safe one, perhaps far across under 
the lee of the opposite shore. A pilot not acquainted with 
every foot of the way would have overturned us instantly. 
The Indian would head our bow into the roughest part of 
the water apparently in sheer foolhardiness, but always the 
waves broke under us and tossed us like a chip over the 
jagged rocks. <A cross current in the maelstrom would tear 
our bow out of its course, and at a cry from the steersman, all 
ten backs would bend as one and fairly lift the boat back 
into her course. As before, Macaws shrieked overhead, 
Cocoi Herons *' stood watching us like statues and the little 
flying fish rose from our bow and ploughed their furrows to 
right and left. But all passed as a swiftly-moving kaleido- 
scope, as instantaneous side-lights upon the great white 
tumbling mass of water which ever boiled and surged about us. 

At noon of the day of our ascent we entered the Big Aremu 
River, a side tributary of the Cuyuni not more than a hundred 
feet wide, and an hour later we grounded at Aremu Landing. 
Here we said good-by to Sproston’s launch and paddlers, and 
from here on were transported by Mr. Wilshire’s own men 
and boats. We slung our hammocks that night in an open- 
work, thatched and wattled house, the company’s. store- 
house, after a delicious swim in the cool water. 

No insects came about the vampire-discouraging lantern 
at night and no evening choruses of birds were heard 
except a family of Red-billed Toucans.** The iridescent 
rough-backed green beetles, known to jewelry makers as 
Brazilian Beetles (Mesomphalia discors), were abundant 
on a vine near the house. 

As on our former expedition on the rivers of the northwest 
we found that as the streams became smaller, their interest 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 269 


increased. The Cuyuni is awe-inspiring and grand beyond 
words, but the banks of the Aremu, closing in little by little 
as we ascended, brought us into more intimate contact with 
the creatures of jungle and forest. 

We started up the stream in an open ballyhoo of smaller 
size, at first with paddles, but changing to poles when the 
water became shallower. Snags, or tacubas as is the more 
euphonious native name, became abundant and sometimes 
stretched far out over our heads. Flying fish skimmed in all 
directions and vampires (Desmodus rufus) in scores flew from 
the dead branches projecting from the water. They choose 
a small-sized one, say two inches in diameter, and alight, one 
below the other, with heads raised, watching us. Like little 
animated sun-dials they revolve on their perches as the sun 
passes over, keeping the wood between them and the bright 
light. Many of the snags had bits of dead leaves and other 
débris clinging to them, brought down and lodged by the last 
freshet, and it was not until we almost put our hand on 
them and the bats flew, that we could tell whether we were 
looking at a cluster of vampires or dead leaves. There were 
hundreds throughout the course of the river, so it is a wide- 
spread diurnal roosting habit of these fierce little creatures. 
The blacks in this part of the country call the vampires 
“Dr. Blairs,’ after a certain colonial doctor of the olden 
times whose favorite method of treatment was blood-letting. 

Swallows in the early morning filled the air above the river 
with a cloud of rapidly moving forms. Orchids in full bloom 
were abundant, long shoots of Golden Showers, the sweet 
Epidendrum odoratum and many others unknown to us, all 
drenched with dew and filling the river canyon with fragrance. 
Three species of Kingfishers **® and big Yellow-bellied 
Trogons “ appeared now and then. The trees were taller 
than any we had yet seen, many of the moras and cumacas 
being much over a hundred feet from base to top. 


270 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


At noon we stopped for breakfast in a primeval forest with 
rather thin underbrush. Many small scarab beetles (Can- 
thon semiopacus) were resting in the hollows of leaves with , 
their branched antennz raised, waiting apparently for some 
hint of an odor which should summon them to their mission 


Fic. 116. SHOOTING THE RAPIDS AT FULL SPEED. 


of life — the depositing of their eggs in decaying flesh. Spin- 
ning through the aisles made by the giant columns of tree- 
trunks, were curious translucent pin-wheels, and not until 
we captured one in the butterfly net did we realize we were 
looking at the same attenuated forest dragon-flies (Mecisto- 
gaster sp.) which had deceived us so completely five years 
ago in Mexico.* The movement of the long, narrow wings, 
with the spot of white at the tips was, to the eye, a cir- 
cular revolving whirl, with the needle-sized body trailing 


* Two Bird-lovers in Mexico, pp. 239-241. 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 271 


behind. The white spots revolved rapidly, while the rest 
of the wings became a mere gray haze. These weird crea- 
tures, apparently so ethereal and fragile, were hunting for 
spiders, and their method was regular and methodical. 
From under leaves or from the heart of widespread webs, 
good-sized spiders were snatched. A momentary juggling 
with the strong legs, a single nip and the spider minus its 
abdomen dropped to the mould, while the dragon-fly alighted 
and sucked the juices of its victim. If we drew near one of 
these spiders on its web, it instantly darted away, sliding 
down a silken cable to the ground or dashing into some 
crevice, but the approach of the hovering dragon-fly, al- 
though rather deliberate, was unheeded, the spider remain- 
ing quiet until snatched from its place. 

On a tiny jungle creek we alarmed several large, blunt- 
nosed brown lizards, with low dorsal crests, which ran up 
into the branches~to escape us. In this respect they dif- 
fered from the big iguanas which always dropped with a 
resounding splash into the water at our approach. 

Near some wild plum trees whose fruit was ripe, we found 
tracks of deer, agoutis and some of the smaller cats. The 
fruit was yellow and oblong in shape with a large stone, and 
tasted the way a tonca bean smells — bitter and yet sweet — 
a strange concentrated essence of the tropics which excited 
one, in that it differed so completely from the taste of any 
other fruit. 

Morphos became more abundant from this point on. 
a blinding, flash- 
ing mirror of azure; others were crossed by a broad band of 
black, while in a third species the blue was reduced to a 
narrow bar down the centre of the wing. Great yellow 
swallow-tailed butterflies and exquisite smaller ones flew 
about us. The crocodiles of the Aremu were all small, none 
over three feet, and were all black in color. 


Some were wholly iridescent blue above 


272 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


As we went on we were impressed with the amount of work 
which had been necessary to open up this river for the pass- 
age of ballyhoos laden with mine machinery. Six months 
ago it had been impassable, except for small Indian canoes, 


. 


Fic. 117. A WILDERNESS PASSION FLOWER — SIMITU. 


and these had often to be dragged ashore and around obstruc- 
tions. Now the little channel had been opened, and although 
for the most part completely overhung with interlacing vines 
and branches, yet our ballyhoo wound in and out around the 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 273 


tacubas with but little hindrance. The cost of opening it 
had been more than $15,000. Huge tree-trunks had to be 
sawn through, but even then, the wood of many species 
having greater specific gravity than water, the trunks would 
sink to the bottom like stones, offering a greater obstruction 
than before. Dynamite was then used to clear them from 
the bed of the stream. 

In the early afternoon, a beautiful dull-red passion flower 
on a climbing vine became common, and we found that its 
fruit was edible and called by the natives Simitt. Although 
apparently so much at home here, this plant, known as the 
Water Lemon (Passijlora laurifolia), is really an escape from 
cultivation. 

The river twisted and turned in every direction and the 
banks were four to eight feet in height with sloping bars of 
sand on the inside bends. Palms were rather scarce, their 
place, in appearance at least, being taken by the tall, slender 
Congo pump trees with deeply serrated rosettes of leaves. 
Tree-ferns appeared in ever increasing numbers and stretched 
their graceful fronds from the banks far out over our heads. 

During midday, silence filled these river glades, both birds 
and insects resting quietly in the heat, and the only sound was 
the regular scraping of the poles against the sides of the 
ballyhoo. The heat was not oppressive except in the glar- 
ing sunshine on the water, but such exposure was rare in 
these deeply forested recesses. We had had no rain thus 
far and the temperature of the mornings and evenings was 
delightfully cool. At night we could scarcely keep warm 
rolled in a hammock in a thick blanket. Unpleasant insects 
were entirely absent, and yet we were travelJing in the heart 
of a tropical wilderness, which most of us have pictured as 
a sizzling, steaming hot-house, teeming with venomous rep- 
tiles and stinging bugs of all descriptions. 

About three o’clock, the Goldbirds"’ began calling and 


274 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Our CAMP ON THE AREMU RIVER. 


Pier Is. 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 275 


some other species with a single loud whistle. A Cormorant 
rose with heavy wing-beats ahead of us, and when we flushed 
it the second time we shot it. It was the little Guiana Cormo- 
rant “ only twenty-eight inches in length, with eyes of dull 
green. A deer broke away from the bank at the sound of 
the shot and dashed off. 

That night we made camp in the jungle. A skeleton 
shelter roof of poles was thrown up, over which was stretched 
a tarpaulin, coming to within six or seven feet of the ground 
all around. Then a double row of stout stakes was driven 
into the leaf mould along each side and the hammocks slung 
from them. They were springy, and one swung not only 
sideways but with a slight end for end motion that made 
every movement easy. 

While we were making camp we were hailed by a passing 
ballyhoo, the occupant of which proved to be Mr. Fowler, 
the head of the Colony Department of Lands and Mines, 
who had been at the mine on a tour of inspection and was 
now on his way back to Georgetown. Hospitable Mrs. 
Wilshire at once invited him to come over from his camping 
place farther downstream and dine with us. A dinner party 
in the “ bush!’ We all shared the feeling of festivity. The 
men hastily constructed a table of the trunks of young sap- 
lings, while the rest of the party hung lighted lanterns from 
the overhanging branches. Directly in front of the camp 
was a tall, straight Copa tree draped with long hanging bush 
ropes dangling from the lowest branches, seventy or eighty 
feet up the trunk. The base sent out thin, far-reaching 
buttresses, the intervals between which formed natural seats 
and closets for our guns and bags. Mr. Fowler’s Indian 
hunter brought in several Curassows which we added to the 
Cormorant for dinner. Mr. Fowler had seen a Bush-master 
(Lachesis mutus) a few hundred yards upstream, the first 
poisonous snake of which we had heard on this trip. We 


276 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


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WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 277 


had a merry dinner, Mr. Fowler telling us many an inter- 
esting story of his early days in the colony. 

The jungle around our camp was alive with sound all night 
— frogs chiefly; the wing-beating fellows, the heavily loaded 
freight engines, the bleating calves and a new kind which 
raised its loud and continuous voice in choking roars. One’s 
imagination pictured death struggles between man-like mon- 
keys and other creatures, the qualities of human and bestial 
voices were so blended in this utterance. Vampires flew 
about back and forth under our shelter but none bit us. So 
strange and wonderful was this night in the “bush” that 
for many hours sleep was impossible. 

Early next morning a light rain fell for an hour and through 
it we photographed our night’s camp. As the sun shone 
dimly through the mist a chorus arose — Woodhewers, Par- 
rots, Macaws and in the distance the ever thrilling moan of 
the red ‘‘ baboons.”’ 

The last black pushed off with his pole about eight o’clock 
and we settled ourselves for our last day of river travel. 
The stream became narrower and more diversified, in places 
being not more than twenty-five feet from bank to bank, 
then spreading out to twice that width with strange keel- 
like sharp rocks projecting from its surface. We elbowed 
our way through a perfect maze of dovetailed tacubas and 
slanting tree-trunks, which we went around or rubbed along 
or scraped over. Sometimes we all had to crouch flat down 
to the level of the gunwale to pass under a low trunk, or 
again even to climb out on to the log and down into the 
ballyhoo on the other side. Now and then a pole would 
be wrenched from a negro’s hand as the current or impetus 
of the boat twisted it to one side, or the man himself would 
be flicked overboard amid roars of laughter from his mates, 
who, when he climbed dripping on board again, would inquire 
the cause for the sudden desertion of his post. 


278 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS, 


Fic. 120. "[TREE-FERNS ON THE LITTLE AREMU. 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 279 


These tacubas, which are really fallen trees, are the most 
apparent danger in the jungle, although the chances of 
accident from them are very slight. Along the bank were 
many slanting trees, bound sooner or later to give way. On 
our return journey down the Aremu we passed, or rather 
scraped under, a huge trunk which completely spanned the 
creek. It must have fallen about two days before and we 
had to push through a perfect tangle of orchids and lianas. 

Tree-ferns twelve feet high draped the banks; spiders of 
weird shapes dropped upon us, buoyed up by their long 
silken cables; brush-tipped aérial roots dangling at the ends 
of plummet lines fifty feet long were drawn from stem to 
stern of the boat and across the pages of our journals as we 
wrote. 

Half an hour after starting we discovered a Three-toed 
Sloth (Choloepus) high up in a tree almost over the water. 
Mr. Howell shot the creature and we found it to be of 
large size, with long reddish-brown hair. The face, expres- 
sionless as it always is in these animals, had small eyes of a 
warm hazel color. Later we had it cooked and found it 
quite palatable. 

In many of these tropical growths the new or first leaf- 
shoots are pale or brilliant red, this holding good in the case 
of the giant moras, several trees with locust-like foliage, and 
even the flat, leaf-vines, Monstera or shingle plants, crawling 
up the trunks. One small tree with entire leaves and covered 
with sweet-scented tassel-shaped flowers, had at least half 
its foliage of a pale yellow-green. ‘This is the spring of this 
region in so far as such a region of never ending warmth and 
moisture may be said to have a spring. On every hand 
flowers were in abundance. All were unknown to us, but 
most were of large size and varied odor and color. All the 
tales of the rarity of flowers in the tropics had not fitted in 
with our experiences. 


280 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


In the course of three bends of the river, during some 
fifteen minutes’ observation, we observed the following in 
masses of sufficient size to catch the eye far off and add a 
decided color tone to the spot where they grew: purple pea- 


Fic. 121. A SLOTH IN ACTION. 


blooms in wisteria-like bunches; falling-star white flowers; 
pink two-petalled ground flowers in dense clumps; spider 
lilies, the large kind; red passion flowers; white tubular 
blooms; five-parted purple star-shaped flowers; wild cotton, 
in enormous masses of bloom, resembling clematis and as 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 281 


fragrant; long thin racemes of very fragrant, dull greenish 
white flowers; brush-like purple blooms, white at the base, 
growing sessile on the trunks, with an edible fruit, which 
the blacks call ‘ Waika.” 

This list is exclusive of all the many inconspicuous flowers 
and all orchids, which were seldom out of sight. Its value 


Fic. 122. A SLotH ASLEEP. 


lies only in giving the faintest of hints of the wonderful beauty 
of these jungle water trails. 

On these upper reaches of the stream the two water birds 
most in evidence were Tiger Bitterns *° and Great Rufous 
Kingfishers.” One could write pages trying to describe a 
single vista of this beautiful region and yet give only a hint 
of its charm, In one place a mighty loop of a lofty bush 


282 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS, 


rope or monkey ladder with ornate woody frills decorating 
the edges, hangs swaying high in air across the stream. 
Several other giant vines have caught hold and have wormed 
their way in serpentine folds along the first great swing. In 
the spaces between these huge living cables, seeds and para- 
sitic plants have taken root and grown, filling up the net- 
work with their aérial bulbs and in turn furnishing rootholds 
for an innumerable variety of flowers, ferns, orchids, mosses 
and lichens. ‘The mosses are long and fan-shaped like some 
species of coral, and the lichens are red, pink, gray and 
white. ‘The whole forms, high over our heads, an enor- 
mous hanging garden which no human ingenuity could 
duplicate. 

Two hours after starting we reached the place called Two 
Mouths and turned into the Little Aremu. In no place is 
this stream more than twenty-five feet wide, with low, sloping 
sandy or clay banks facing steep ones, first on the right, then 
on the left side, according to the bend of the stream and the 
force of the current. As we went along a splendid male 
Crested Curassow * flew up and was shot, to be added to 
our menu. Before we came in sight it was clucking softly. 

A splash around a bend, and sharp claw and toe marks 
showed where a capybara (Hydrochoerus capybara) had 
just entered the water, and from here on we found such 
tracks common on every sandy bank. ; 

We were amused at our steersman’s occasional orders to 
the crew. In places where the current was swift and poling 
was very difficult he would shout in a most woful and despair- 
ing voice ‘‘O Lord!”’, giving us quite astart. We eventually 
found that he was intending this ejaculation for ‘“‘ Pole-hard!” 

Black-shelled mollusks were common on submerged logs, 
and on the banks above the water line were scores of curious 
spiders and insects, while dragon-flies of a half dozen or more 
species darted swiftly about. Throughout the morning we 


283 


WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU. 


WHERE ONLY OTTERS AND FISH CAN PASS. 


Fic. 123. 


284 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


were never out of hearing of the hammering of Woodpeckers, 
or the cooing of Doves or the laughing, descending scales of 
Woodhewers. The Chinese music of the cicadas came 
to our ears, a sound which recalled vividly the forests of 
Venezuela. 

The water was now at a medium level, but after heavy 
rains when it is high, all the great tacubas six feet above our 
heads are submerged and much of the land along the river 
banks becomes a swamp. 

Farther upstream when the water became very shallow 
and the stream narrowed to twelve or fifteen feet, some of us 
left the ballyhoo in order to make the work of the blacks ~ 
easier, and took to the trail. After a fifteen minutes’ walk 
we saw the glimmer of sunshine through the trees and knew 
that we had reached the gold mine of the Little Aremu. 


CHAPTER IX. 
JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 


SOME PAGES FROM MY DIARY. 


(By C. William Beebe.) 


VEN more to the Gold Mine of Aremu than to Hoorie is 
the application “‘ island ”’ or ‘‘oasis ” in the jungle, appro- 
priate. The clearing is about twenty acres in extent, approxi- 
mately circular, with the magnificent forest trees crowding 
densely to the very edge. The bungalow and mine shaft 
are on the summit of a symmetrical hill, which slopes evenly 
and steeply down on all sides. The hill is about a hundred 
feet in height and yet the trees far down at the foot tower 
high above it. 

The concession includes about seven and a half square 
miles, and in many places where the rock outcrops, well 
paying deposits of gold are visible. At Aremu there is a 
soft quartz ledge about eight feet wide running almost 
vertically and rich in gold. Often the metal is visible and a 
small lens shows the yellow crystals encrusting the white 
matrix. 

The first day at Aremu we went down in the mining 
bucket, two and two — each clinging to the wire cable and 
balancing the opposite person. Down and down went the 
swaying bucket, slowly revolving — the heat and sunshine 
of the upper air replaced by the cool darkness — damp and 
chilly with rich earthen, clayey smells. Eighty-five feet 
below the surface the four leads began, one a hundred feet 


along the vein. This consists of a ferrugineous gold-bear- 
285 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


286 


‘IUVHS ANIJY GNV MOTVONONG ONIMOHS SANIT 


aioy AWaXy “VZI ‘oly 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 287 


ing quartz, somewhat decomposed by the dissolving out of 
several of its constituents. The candles shed a flickering 
light on the slimy, dripping walls and for a few moments one 
felt completely confused —so hard was it to stand there 
shivering and yet realize that a few yards overhead was 
brilliant tropical light and sunshine, gaudy birds and butter- 
flies. One seemed in a wholly different world. 

But though forever buried in dripping darkness, there were 
as bright colors here as in the living creatures above ground. 
Each side of the quartz vein ran an endless series of beauti- 
fully stratified, decomposed, talc-like clays; purest white, 
orange, slate-colored, pink, blue, yellow and brown — one 
hue succeeding another like some strange fossil rainbow. 

Outside near the bottom of the hill, two gaping holes 
showed where the blacks who discovered the gold years 
ago worked the ledge by hand — leaving even in their 
tailings enough gold to make it well worth working over. 
Now electric stamps, run by great boilers, do the work, all 
brought up the Little Aremu bit by bit, with the greatest 
labor, at seasons of high water. 

Here as at Hoorie a few pork-knockers were allowed to 
locate their diminutive claims and glean what superficial 
metal they could from surface deposits. A mile away to 
the west was a large outcropping known as “‘England’’ and 
here four or five blacks were working. On each Saturday 
night they would bring their little packets of gold to the store 
to receive credit checks or receipts. Once as we were crouch- 
ing in the jungle watching some “cushie”’ or parasol ants, 
two of these black pork-knockers passed within a yard with- 
out seeing us, each with his little bundle of worldly belong- 
ings on his head, topped by a wooden gold pan. 

I have mentioned panning as the most primitive method of 
mining, next to which comes the “Long Tom.” At “Eng- 
land” we found a third advance — a method of breaking up 


288 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS, 


partly decomposed gold-bearing quartz. A deep narrow pit 
showed where the material was found, shovelfuls being 
thrown up on two successive ledges before it reached the 
surface. It was then carried to an open thatched roof be- 
neath which was a primitive, two-man power stamp. ‘This 
was nothing but a gigantic hammer made of two logs, the ham- 
mer part covered with metal, and the handle hung in a socket, 
so that the centre of gravity lay toward the head. Two men, 
balancing themselves by clinging to uprights, stepped in 
unison on the tip of the handle, their combined weight de- 
pressing it and raising the head; then stepping off suddenly 
the hammer came down with great force on a pile of broken 
gold-quartz, fed into a hardened hollow beneath it. This 
mining enterprise required no less than five men, and they 
were taking out about $1.20 each a day. 

Comparing the division of labor among men with that 
among cells, we may liken the single “pork-knocker” to an 
Amoeba, where a single man and a single cell perform all 
the necessary functions; the Long Tom with two men is like 
the simpler sponges — where one set of cells secretes the 
skeleton of spicules, giving shape to the whole, and another 
set lashes the water and absorbs the tiny bits of food. The 
crusher with its five men, each performing his individual 
labor, corresponds to some slightly higher organism —a 
jelly-fish or anemone,— while the electrically run stamps, 
employing several score of men, is like the complex cell 
machinery of a beetle or butterfly. 

The Aremu Mine clearing had been in existence only about 
six months, and the trees which were felled had been sawed up 
or burnt so that there was no such abundance of wood-loving 
insects as at Hoorie. At night a few Longicorn beetles would 
appear and buzz about, but almost no moths. In fact during 
our whole stay only one moth of large size was seen. One 
small species of moth, with wings of a general rusty-red, 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 289 


a light line along the front margin and spreading only an 
inch, appeared in numbers on the evening of April 2d. 
The following day we saw many of the Gray-rumped Swifts 
snatching them from the bushes in the clearing. I brought 


Fic. 125. DESCENDING THE SHAFT. 


a single specimen back and found it was a species new to 
science, which has been named Capnodes albicosta.* 

Walking sticks and mantises were more abundant. Some 
of the former had well-developed wings on which they 
whirred about the bungalow; others had none at all or 
reduced to a scale-like vestige. In an individual of a third 

* Zoologica, Vol. I, No. 4. 


290 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


group the wings, while perfect, were pitiful affairs, mere 
mockeries of pinions, barely an inch in extent, while the 
body of the insect was almost five inches in length. When 
thrown into the air the poor “‘stick”’ expanded his wings to 
the fullest but wholly in vain. There was just sufficient 


Fic. 126. WALKING STICK INSECT. 


spread of wing to act as a parachute and allow him to scale 
safely to the ground. | 

We watched him several days and never tired of his pecu- 
liar walk, swaying from side to side. Often when at rest 
the front pair of legs would be extended parallel with the 
antenne, along the anterior line of the body, making the 
imitation twig eight inches over all (Fig. 126). 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 201 


As we walked through the jungle wood roads close to the 
clearing, large forest dragon-flies, small tiger beetles (Odonto- 
chila confusa, O. cayennensis and O. lacordairet) and a few 
yellow-spotted Heliconias were the most noticeable insects. 
One or two of the giant metallic Buprestid beetles (Euchroma 
goliath) were sure to be seen flying about the fallen trees, 
and our Indian hunter invariably made a dash at them, and 
as invariably missed the active, alert creatures. 

Passing by a great mora stump in the clearing, our atten- 
tion was attracted one day by a large caterpillar hanging 
dangling about two feet from the ground, squirming and 
wriggling vigorously. We ran up and saw a most interesting 
sight. Through a hole, about three quarters of an inch in 
diameter, protruded one of the claws of a good-sized scorpion. 
These villainous pincers had a secure grip on two of the long 
head spines of the caterpillar, which was dangling helplessly. 
As the latter wriggled, the scorpion made attempt after at- 
tempt to draw its victim inside the hole, a most absurd thing, 
as from tip to tip of spines the caterpillar measured almost 
two inches across. After watching this tableau I caught 
the scorpion’s claw in a pair of pliers, drew him out, and, 
Milady holding him up with the caterpillar, I photographed 
them together. 

The caterpillar was a most gorgeous creature; pale green, 
fading into yellowish at the posterior edge of each segment, 
while the movable joints were dark brown. On the seven 
posterior segments there were six rows of branched spines, 
the stalks pale orange and the branches pale blue —the 
three colors, green, orange and blue, making a most har- 
monious combination. On the anterior five segments there 
were two additional rows of spines, small ones, low down on 
the sides. The eight spines on the head segment pointed 
forward, projecting beyond the head. ‘The longest spines 
were on the second, third and caudal segment and were 


292 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


over three quarters of an inch. All the blue branchlets 
ended in a dark, tiny needle point, and they stung like nettles 
as we found when we accidentally touched some. 

I had never heard of a contest between two such creatures, 
and should think the scorpion must have been hard put to it 
for food, to make frantic attempts to secure such a prickly 
mouthful. 


Fic. 127. SCORPION AND CATERPILLAR AFTER THEIR BATTLE. 


South of the bungalow, scrubby bush had been allowed 
to grow up and here was a scattering of non-forest birds; 
three pairs of Silver-beak Tanagers * and a pair of Seed- 
eaters.! Gray-rumped Swifts” coursed over the clearing 
and Toucans, Macaws and Orange-headed Vultures” were 
occasionally seen from the bungalow, while a pair of splen- 
did Red-crested Woodpeckers * hammered the trunks and 
leaped from tree to tree all through the day. 

In the clearing itself we saw little of mammalian life, al- 
though we dined daily on all the bush meat from bush-pig 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 293 


to acourie. The whitened bones of an ocelot lay in perfect 
arrangement at the edge of the clearing fifty yards from the 
bungalow, picked clean by ants but for some unaccountable 
reason untouched by Vultures. The animal had been shot 
at night, chicken stealing. 

At daybreak the red howlers came to the edge of the 
clearing and awakened us from our slumbers by their wonder- 
fully weird chant. 

Jaguars were not seen or heard, except one reported by 
the mail carrier who runs between Aremu and Perseverance 
Landing. Some years ago an Indian near here found a litter 
of jaguar cubs containing two normally colored and one 
black individual. The latter was purchased by a colonist 
and sent to the London Zoo. 

A dull-colored, harmless snake, four feet long, with two rows 
of keeled scales along the back, was the only serpent we found 
in or near the clearing. Lizards were everywhere and one 
very large iguana inhabited a bit of wood-road, but evaded all 
our efforts to add him to our mess pot. 

The Amphibians alone in this region would well repay 
months of study. Our brief visit gave us only a glimpse of 
them. ‘The commonest frog in the jungle near the clearing 
was a medium sized, dark-bodied one (Dendrobates trivittatus) 
with green legs and two pale green bands, one running around 
the front edge of the head, back over the eyes and down the 
sides of the body; the second line being beneath the first. 
The under parts were covered with blue lines and mottlings. 
The first half dozen seen were normal in appearance, but 
then one was encountered which instantly drew my attention. 
A closer look showed that the back of the animal was covered 
with a solid mass of living tadpoles, each over half an inch 
in length. When I urged him into a jar, two tadpoles were 
scraped off and wriggled vigorously. When put into water 
they sank to the bottom and made no attempt to swim, 


2904 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


although the tail fins were well developed and there was as 
yet no trace of limbs. 

I kept this frog in a box with wet earth and a puddle of 
water, and two days later half the tadpoles had left his back 
and were swimming strongly in the muddy water. ‘They were 
attached to the back of their parent only by their sucking 
disks, and the object of the strange association seemed only 
temporary and not intended to last until the tadpoles became 
adult. They would probably drop off and swim away one 
by one when their father entered some forest pool. This 
species of frog was very active and capable of remarkably 
long jumps. 

As I shall mention later, the sharp eyes of my Indian hunter 
spied a most remarkable frog in the jungle one day, which I 
brought home in my pocket. Its scheme of protective form 
and color was perfect — the hue of dried leaves and withered 
mosses, with deeply serrated sides and a high irregular ridge 
over each eye. I placed it among some dried leaves and 
tried to focus on it with my Graflex, but could not find it. 
Then I stooped down and although the frog had not moved 
and I knew the square yard within which it was resting, it 
took me a full minute before I located it, and optically disen- 
tangled it from its surroundings. I have never seen such a 
case of complete dissolution and disappearance. When I 
alarmed it, the frog closed its eyes — thus obliterating the 
dark spots of its irides, and then little by little opened them 
again. 

Every evening at half past five o’clock we would troop down 
to the stream and swim and paddle about on the sand bars 
in the half day — half moonlight. The water was cool and 
refreshing and the temperature of the air invigorating at this 
hour, and to lie on one’s back and look up at the lofty moras 
and other trees stretching their branches fifty yards or more 
overhead was a sensation never to be forgotten. 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 295 


We spent ten days at the Aremu Mine, and it speaks weil 
for the working possibilities of this region that I was able 
to rise at five o'clock in the morning and with intervals only 
for meals, keep up steady work — exploring, photographing 
and skinning until ten o’clock at night, when usually the 
last skin would be rolled up or the last note written. I would 
then tumble, happyand dead tired, into bed and know nothing 
until the low signal of our Indian hunter summoned me in 
the dusk of the following morning. I worked harder than 
I ought to have done even in our northern countries and yet 
felt no ill effects. 

What impressed me chiefly in regard to the birds of this 
region was, first the abundance, and second, the great variety. 
In the course of the ten days of our stay, we identified 80 
species of birds, and observed at least a full two hundred more 
which we were unable to classify except as to family or genus. 
Wishing to study the birds alive I refrained from shooting as 
much as possible and chose to make this expedition rather 
one of preparation in learning what tropical wood-craft I 
could from an excellent Indian hunter, than of gathering a 
collection and thereby a lengthy list of mere names. When, 
sometime in the future, we return to this splendid field of 
study and spend months in careful observation of some 
such limited region, we may hope to add something of real 
value to our knowledge of the ecology of these most inter- 
esting forms of tropical life. We have the results of the 
collector, par-excellence, in our museum cases of thousands 
of tropical bird-skins. Now let us learn something of the 
environment and life history of the living birds themselves. 

It is against my rule to write in diary form, but owing to 
the limited time we spent at Aremu and the series of events, 
some of which extended over two or three days, I have 
made an exception in this case and will put down a few of 
the incidents of jungle life in the order in which I observed 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


206 


“HaHa TL VaOy INVI4) AHL ANV 


RAVI ‘QZI “OT 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 297 


them. Far from giving all the observations made here on 
birds and other creatures, I have included only those of 
greatest interest, which will convey an idea of the conditions 
of life here as compared to those in our northern woods and 
forests. 

Marcu 28th. — Leaving the house before noon I crossed 
the Little Aremu by a foot bridge, at the western edge of the 
clearing. ‘The stream here flows gently and smoothly; it is 
from one to four feet deep, and ten to fifteen feet wide. 
Following it upstream, one is stopped within a few yards by 
a perfect tangle and maze of interlocked vines and trunks 
showing what it was like lower down before the hand of 
man hewed and blasted a free channel. The forest about 
the mine clearing is probably near the extreme, even of 
tropical growth. One feels absolutely dwarfed as one gazes 
up —far up, at the lofty branches, where birds like tiny 
insects are flying about, in a world by themselves. The 
trunks are clean, hard and straight as marble columns and 
the undergrowth is thin, giving access in almost any direc- 
tion, yet dense enough to harbor many species of birds and 
animals. 

Turning south along a wood road, I started on my first 
tramp into the jungle. It was the hottest part of the day, 
but there was all the difference in the world between sun and 
shade, and here in the recesses of the forest it was pleasantly 
cool, and birds and insects were abundant. 

One of the first sounds which came to my ears was a loud, 
intermittent rustling among the dried leaves, marked now 
and then by a low grunt. Crawling up quietly behind a 
great mossy log, I peered over and was surprised to find 
that I had been stalking a huge tortoise. I certainly might 
reasonably have expected to see a mammal instead of a rep- 
tile, as our tortoises of the north are not in the habit of 
attracting our attention by their vocal efforts. ‘This was a 


298 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


South American Tortoise (Testudo tabulata) of the largest 
size, not far from two feet in length, and he was busy rooting 
in the ground for some small nuts which had fallen in great 
quantities from the tree overhead and settled among the 
débris of the leaf mould. The shell of the tortoise was high 
and arched, dark brown in color with a bright yellow centre 
in each shield. ‘There were two deep abrasions on the shell, 
apparently caused by the teeth of some carnivore. 

These tortoises were very common and we had many deli- 
cious soups and stews made of their meat. ‘They were, 
however, heavy and awkward to carry and we never bothered 
to bring them home unless on the return journey and near 
the clearing. In one individual we found eight eggs about to 
be deposited. 

My wood road led up a gentle incline down which logs had 
been skidded, and after a half mile it merged gradually into 
the jungle. At the last sign of the axe I sat down.on a fallen 
trunk and quietly waited. Three Blue Honey Creepers *” 
—two males and one green female, — dashed here and there 
in the branches close overhead. They uttered sharp cheeps, 
until the males flew at each other and began fighting furi- 
ously — ascending for fifty feet in a whirling spiral of hazy 
blue and black, and then clinching and falling to earth, 
where they clung together claw to claw, and pecked viciously 
and in silence, their beautiful plumage disheveled and broken. 
The lady—heartless cause of all this terrible strife— cheeped 
in low tones overhead and nonchalantly plucked invisible 
dainties from the undersides of leaves. I took a step toward 
the combatants and they separated and vanished, the lady, 
be it noted, following swiftly in their wake. 

Close upon this melodrama came a fairy Manakin, black 
with a conspicuous white chin. I never saw another and 
cannot identify it, distinctly marked though it was. Through 
the forest came the low belling of Green Cassiques; *”° then 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 299 


no sound save the drowsy hum of insects high overhead. 
The most frequent noise came from falling leaves, twigs and 
branches — yes, leaves, for “‘ gently as a falling leaf ”’ in this 
tropic world might mean, “like the stroke of a sledge ham- 
mer!’’ The realization comes again, as a yellow leaf eddies 


Fic. 129. AERIAL Roots OF BUSH-ROPE. 


past my seat, that autumn is distributed throughout the whole 
year, while the freshly opening pink and reddish shoots on 
every hand show that spring is never absent. 

I observed something circling about in an opening to my 
left and on examining it found a peculiar flat cake-like wasp 
nest, with the solitary pair of owners (Polybia sp.) on the rim. 


300 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


It was attached to the extremity of a long, slender bush- 
thread dangling from a great distance above. ‘There was 
not a breath of air and the secret of the circling motion — 
the nest moving irregularly in an ellipse of about ten feet — 
was not solved until with my glasses I made out a small 
monkey —a marmoset apparently — clinging to a branch 
near where the bush-thread started. The little creature had 
found some store of food in a hollow or crevice of the bark. 
To get his hand in, he was compelled to push aside the dang- 
ling curtain of aérial root-threads, and this occasional motion 
was enough to send the end, far below, sailing around in a 
large circle. 

As I resumed my seat, a great beetle, like a polished emer- 
ald, alighted close beside me,—not heavy and blundering, 
like a June-bug or scarab, but nervous, flicking its wings 
wasp-like, ready at an instant’s alarm to whirr away as swiftly 
as light. A beautifully marked Longicorn beetle buzzed 
past and alighted ten feet up a sapling, leaving me eying it 
enviously, atremble with all my boyhood’s collecting ardor. 
Heliconias sailed slowly past and one of the beautiful trans- 
parent jungle butterflies alighted at my feet, with only a few 
dots of azure revealing the position of the wings. White and 
yellow butterflies floated high in air, where a hundred kinds 
of flowers flashed out among the green foliage. 

Lizards were abundant in this little clearing, slipping along 
fallen trees with sudden rushes and halts, or tearing madly 
after each other with loud rustlings through the fallen leaves. 
Some were beautifully colored, splashed with blue, orange and 
green; while other dark ones had a network of delicate light 
lines crossing the back, cutting the creatures up into like- 
nesses of small lichened leaves. 

When the sun shone out brightly, two or three minute 
midges danced before my eyes — otherwise I was free from 
the “‘ insect scourges ”’ of the tropics! 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 301 


The trees on this and all later days constantly drew from 
us exclamations of delight. They were magnificent, awe- 
inspiring, and if I could think of any stronger word of appreci- 
ation I should apply it at once to them. Their immensity 
and apparent age made one reflect upon the transiency of 
animal and human existence. Even the long-lived Parrots 
and Macaws perching on their branches seemed like may- 
flies of a day compared with these giants of the jungle, which 
had watched century upon century pass. 

As I looked at the circle of trees bordering the clearing — 
a clearing which itself was the result of the felling of only one 
such giant — the great variety of trees was at once noticeable. 
Near relatives — brothers and sisters, or fathers and sons — 
could not exist within each other’s shadow. So it was that 
a dozen kinds were visible from my seat. One splendid 
fellow sent up a perfectly rounded grayish column, one 
hundred and fifty feet or more, propped with a single great 
fox-colored buttress, sweeping gracefully out from the weaker 
side of the ground hold of the trunk, like the train of a court 
lady’s dress. 

Another column was round but deeply fluted, the trunk 
being rimmed with a succession of scallops, while in a third 
tree known as Paddle-wood, this was carried to an extreme, 
the trunk being little more than the point of juncture of a 
dozen thin blade-like sheets of wood. ‘The whole was of a 
beautiful leaden-gray color. 

The moras were the biggest and tallest trees within sight, 
and sent out huge buttresses, twenty feet in all directions 
with space between them for a good-sized room. ‘The im- 
pression of security was perfect —it seemed as if the strongest 
of winds could never overcome such a reinforced structure. 

Hearing near: at hand the strange cicada whirr! which we 
have described in a previous chapter (page 23), I watched 
for the insect and soon traced the sound to a very large 


302 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


cicada high up on the trunk of a tree. Wishing to identify 
it and lacking other means of getting it, I backed away 
some distance and brought it down with a 22 calibre shot 
cartridge. It is a remarkable country indeed where one goes 
gunning for bugs! And not only this, but I only winged my 
game! one pellet of lead breaking the main vein of the right 
wing, bringing the insect to the ground where it buzzed and 
flopped about until I caught and chloroformed it. 

It was a beautiful species almost three inches in length 
with transparent wings marbled with wavy black markings, 
and with the thorax and abdomen ornamented with tufts of 
golden and brown hair (Cicada grossa). 

Keeping to the left through the open underbrush I inter- 
sected another wood road, then swung around and at last 
entered the clearing from the southeast. Hearing a rustling 
I suspected another tortoise, and was about to pass on when 
I saw leaves and twigs flying into the air behind a log. 
Creeping from tree to tree I saw that the commotion was 
made by a trio of Ant-thrushes or, as I prefer to call them, 
Antbirds. They took the leaves and leaf mould in their 
beaks and threw them over their backs, all three working 
side by side, covering a width of about two feet. They were 
Woodcock Antbirds,” reminding one, in the general tone of 
coloration of the upper parts, of that bird. The chin and 
throat were black bordered with white which extended up 
the sides of the neck and forward over the eyes. The tail 
was short and often held erect over the back, while the strong 
legs and feet proclaimed them terrestrial rather than arboreal. 
When flying or excited, a row of white spots flashed out from 
all the wing feathers save the first two primaries, but when 
the wings were closed only buff markings were visible. Now 
and then two of the birds would spy some morsel of food at 
the same instant and a tussel would ensue. With angry scold- 
ing cries the two contestants would strike at each other with 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 303 


their beaks, with wings wide spread and the elongated feathers 
of the back raised and parted, exposing the conspicuous white 
base of the plumes, almost like a rosette. These white 
stars were very conspicuous amid the dark shadows of the 
forest floor, vanishing instantly when the wings were lowered. 
This color was not visible in flight. Many of the species of 
this group of birds have a similar concealed dorsal spot, and 
it must serve some definite purpose. When the matter of 
dispute was devoured or had crawled away into safety, the 
quarrel was at once forgotten and the birds began scratch- 
ing peacefully side by side as before. 

A short distance beyond I encountered what I found 
later was the most common assemblage of birds to be 
found in this region—a flock of Antbirds and Wood- 
hewers, with a few other species, such as Flycatchers and 
Tanagers. One could not take even a short walk in the 
forest hereabouts without observing several such flocks, 
numbering from a dozen to fifty or more individuals. 

The Antbirds comprise a family, Formicariidae, of which 
more than two hundred and fifty species are known. 
They are rather generalized passerine birds, which are found 
only in the tropical forests of northern South America. 
Inconspicuous in color and retiring in habits it is only when 
one becomes familiar with these tropical jungles that one 
realizes how numerous these birds really are. Their notes 
are usually uttered only at intervals and are often difficult 
to locate. ‘They creep silently among the lower branches 
or, as we have seen, search the ground for the insects which 
form their food. The name Ant-thrush is rather a mis- 
nomer, for they are not Thrushes, and while they are always 
attendant upon the swarms of hunting ants yet they seldom 
feed upon the ants themselves, but on the insects stirred up 
by the ferocious insects. 

We know but little about the nesting habits of these birds, 


304 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


and we were unable to locate a nest during our brief stay al- 
though we knew that several were breeding near the clearing. 

Like most other tropical families, Antbirds have been 
compelled by competition to specialize, and we find some 
Shrike-like in habits as well as appearance; others resembling 
the long-legged Pittas of the East Indies, while the majority 
parallel Wrens, Warblers or Thrushes. 

The Woodhewers of the well-named family Dendrocolap- 
tidae, or Tree-chisellers, form with the Antbirds a con- 
siderable percentage of the smaller forest birds of this 
region. There are not far from three hundred forms of 
these birds, all of dull colors — rufous or brown tones pre- 
vailing. 

Woodhewers in the main parallel the Woodpeckers, and 
especially the Brown Creepers, in their method of obtaining 
food. Their claws and feet are strong, the legs short, and 
the tail feathers in the majority of species are stiff and spine-. 
like. They hitch up the trunks of trees, finding their food 
in the chinks and crevices of bark, but not boring into the 
wood like Woodpeckers. While the stiff tails show that all 
have probably descended from tree-creeping ancestors, some 
Woodhewers have deserted the trunks and have become 
Warbler-like in haunt and habit. Such a one is the Cinna- 
mon Spine-tail” or ‘‘ Rootie” (p. 379). In the tropical forest 
however, Woodhewers differ but little in their method of 
locomotion, and one or more of these fox-colored birds hitch- 
ing up a great trunk is one of the commonest sights. There 
is remarkable adaptiveness in the bills, some being stout and 
blunt, others long and curved. 

The notes of these birds are, with the calls of the Toucans 
and Cotingas, among those most frequently heard. In the 
early morning especially, the sweet descending scales of single 
nates from various parts of the forest forms a feature which 
is seldom lacking. 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 305 


Just before I reached the clearing I flushed two labbas 
or pacas (Coelogenys paca) which ran squealing almost from 
under my feet. These are rodents, looking like giant 
Guinea-pigs about two feet in length, with brown fur spotted 
with white. ‘Their flesh is the most delicate of all the “bush 
meat.”’ 

Mr. Howell followed my tracks later in the afternoon and 
brought home a Tamandua, or Lesser Anteater (Tamandua 
tetradactyla), which he shot ina tree. This creature is rather 
sloth like in color and in development of its claws, but its 
tail is prehensile, and nothing more unlike could be 
imagined than the heads of the two animals, that of the 
sloth short, round and blunt; the anteater’s long, slim and 
pointed. 

Marcu 29th.—We had an excellent illustration this morning 
of how easily one can get a totally wrong idea of the animal 
and bird life of a tropical forest. Nine of us started out along 
a faint trail used by black “ pork-knockers,”’ 
eral miles of twisting and turning, led to an outcropping of 
gold, known as ‘“‘ England,” all on Mr. Wilshire’s concession. 
Throughout the whole tramp, although we lagged behind, 


which, after sev- 


we noted not a single bird or animal of interest save for 
a scattering of Toucans and Parrots. Every living creature 
fled before us or remained hidden. One might thus tramp 
across a continent and report the tropics to be barren of life, 
except in the tree-tops. Not only this, but the few birds 
which flew over or were otherwise seen momentarily were 
without exception brilliantly colored, and this would help to 
sustain the wide-spread impression that tropical birds are 
invariably of bright plumage, which is very untrue. There 
are really more dull-colored than brilliant birds in the 
tropics. 

At last I slip aside, let my companions go on, and make a 
detour to the left of the trail. Here in the heart of the jungle 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


306 


(‘usoques Aq ‘o1oUg) +‘VACGNVYNV], ‘Off ‘O17 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 307 


I discover an overgrown clearing with the skeleton of a hut 
in the centre. The ruin itself is a thing of exquisite beauty, 
the half-decayed uprights and roof saplings being interlaced 
and overhung with vines, the brilliant scarlet, poppy-like 
passion flowers crowning all. From the blossoms comes a 
busy hum of insects, in sharp contrast to the silence of the 
trail along which we have come. In the virgin forest there 
is ever sharp contrast. Brilliant bits of sunlight alternate 
with blackest shadow; deathly silence is broken by the ear- 
piercing call of the Goldbird; the dull earthy smell of the 
mould is suddenly permeated by the rare sweet incense of 
some blossom or the penetrating musk of an animal or some 
huge hemipterous insect. 

In a clearing — even a deserted one like this and only a 
few yards in extent—all is toned down. The odors are 
diffused and difficult to analyze; the droning of bees alter- 
nates only with the sharper whirr of a Hummingbird’s wings, 
either the brown White-eyebrowed one,” or the beauty with 
long sweeping tail.” The Rufous-breasted Hummingbirds 
are abundant here and have quite a sweet song, a trill of 
twelve or fifteen notes, slow at first but rapidly increasing and 
ascending. 

The half hidden framework of the hut with the collapsed 
shelf and table, tell of man’s past presence; so do the papaw, 
sugar-cane and banana run riot; and suddenly we hear the 
sweet rollicking song of a littke House Wren,"* man’s fol- 
lower, filling the deserted glade with sweetness; probably 
hoping that soon he will return and reclaim this fast vanish- 
ing oasis. For when the trees and vines — already reaching 
up over the papaw and bananas — close densely in, as they 
surely will, the jungle will become sovereign again, and 
then the pair of tiny birds will flee. Not for them are the 
dark silences, the tall sombre trunks. Their jubilant little 
souls crave light and companionship. Many of the birds of 


308 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the tropical jungle have sweet single notes and calls — but 
most have harsh primitive voices. All are characterized by 
a solemnity or plaintiveness of tone, and none that I can 
recall have the joyful theme which fills the song of this little 
pioneer from more civilized regions; a song which is out 
of place away from mankind. ‘Their sweetness has touched 
the heart of the native Guianans, who call these Wrens 
God-birds. 

It is nine o’clock, cloudy and cool, and I am sitting near 
the old hut and write on a trunk fallen across the trail. A 
shuffling of feet comes to my ears and soon a good-sized opos- 
sum, but smaller than ours of the north, trots swiftly toward 
me. Not until he gets within arm’s reach does he realize 
that something is wrong. I sit as immovable as stone and 
he puts a grimy little hand on the very edge of this journal. 
His nose works furiously, his rat-like beady eyes fairly bulge. 
Then he turns, just as I grab at his tail, but his hind claws 
scratch my arm so severely that I loose him, and he flees back 
on his trail — rolling awkwardly along but making remark- 
ably good time. He was probably on his way home after an 
early morning’s hunt. Thus the jungle folk have already 
begun to close in on this deserted clearing. 

An hour later as I am kneeling quietly some six -feet from 
the log, busy liberating a beautiful little butterfly from the 
tangle of a spider’s web, I am surprised to see the same 
opossum trot past. I know him because he has a kink 
in one ear. To see what the little fellow would do I leap 
toward him, but he has encountered me once and come to no 
harm, so he will not be turned back again. Instead of dodg- 
ing me, the opossum only increases his speed, crosses the 
log, drops out of sight among the bushes, snorts twice to 
himself, and is swallowed up forever by the dark jungle. 
This log is apparently his regular highway, and he chooses 
to risk my apparently fierce onslaught and to run over the 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 309 


opened journal, bag, hat and gun, rather than change to a 
new path along another tree trunk a few feet farther along 
the trail. 


We mortals sometimes have faint hints of coming events, 
and as I was leaving the clearing I instinctively kept all my 
senses on the alert. I had proceeded only a few yards into 
the jungle when some of the sweetest flute-like notes I have 
ever heard came from a patch of underbrush ahead. What 
could it be! I knew that no human being could whistle 
like that, and when they were repeated I realized how coarse 
any flute would sound in comparison. Nothing in this world 
but a bird could utter such wonderful notes. My memory 
recalled descriptions of the Quadrille-bird '” and I knew I 
was at last listening to it. 

Our northern ravines have their Hermit Thrush; the can- 
yons of Mexico are transfigured by the melody of the Solitaire 
and here in the deepest, darkest jungles in the world arises 
the spirit of the forest in song — the hymn of the Necklaced 
Jungle Wren. Dropping everything which would impede 
my progress, I crawled slowly and silently over the soft mould 
until I was close to the patch of thick brush. Then I waited 
and prayed, and the gods of the Naturalist were good, and a 
little brown form flitted up to a low branch and from the 
feathered throat came the incomparable tones of the fairy 
flute. The bird sang a phrase (1) of six to ten notes at a time. 
This was repeated several times, when an entirely new theme 
(II) was begun, which was given only once, then a third (IIT) 
and fourth were tried. Each note was distinct, and of the 
sweetest, most silvery character imaginable. In all but two 
phrases the invariable end consisted of two notes exactly an 
octave apart, the last like an ethereal harmonic. ‘Twice the 
tones were loud and penetrating, twice they came so faintly 
that one’s ear could hardly disentangle them from the silence. 


310 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Birds with scale-like songs are far from uncommon: in 
the north the Field Sparrow; in Mexico the Canyon Wren; 
here the Woodhewers, but this was wholly new, phrase after 
phrase each differing from the preceding. How I longed 
for a phonograph! I scrawled a staff on a bit of paper and 
pin-pricked the notes where they seemed to come and repro- 
duce them here. But what a parody they are, be they 
whistled or played! 


(1) e- (11) 
(2- 2 


: a6 2 - see — ae 
Pee, ey 


The Necklaced Jungle Wren,’” or Quadrille-bird as the 
natives know it, is a true Wren barely four inches in length, 
brown above, with a black collar spangled with white. The 
face, throat and breast are rich rufous, with the lower parts 
pale brown. This is the singer. The song no man may 
describe! 

A small deer sprang up at my left, and I had walked some 
distance in that direction when I suddenly realized that I had 
missed the trail, and had been following an imaginary open- 
ing through the jungle. On closer examination this proved 
to be a deer trail leading to a small spring of clear water. I 
will never forget the first thought of terror at being lost in 
this endless forest. In one direction a few miles away lay 
the bungalow; in the opposite direction one might wander 
for weeks without meeting even an Indian. As this thought 
came I espied a little scarab beetle resting in the hollow of 
a leaf, who, as I looked, climbed slowly to the rim, wriggled 
his antenne and took to wing. What a wonderful power of 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 311 


scent it was which was directing him straight as a magnet, 
to some far distant bit of decaying flesh, and with what mar- 
vellous vision the Vulture high overhead spied me and hung 
for a moment watching me through a break in the foliage! 
How dull and inefficient seemed all my organs of sense in 
such a crisis as this. For a few moments I devoted myself 
to discovering which was north, and from which direction 
I had come. The cloudy sky and the sameness of all the 
vistas through the jungle completely foiled me, and I had to 
give it up and ignominiously unravel my puzzle deliberately 
and unromantically. I stuck my long-handled butterfly 
net in the ground and began to describe circles about it — 
widening them gradually, until on the third round I inter- 
sected the trail and went on my way. 

The danger of being lost is by no means an imaginary one, 
and even with a compass it is sometimes difficult to retrace 
one’s tracks. ‘The Indians themselves have to guard against 
becoming confused when in a new region. Before I reached 
the main trail, and met the returning party, I saw a number 
of the exquisite White-capped Manakins,’” clad in shining 
black save for their snowy caps. Their flight, unlike their 
white-breasted cousins which we met in Venezuela, was 
noiseless. They were far from silent however, twanging 
their little vocal chords in an apology for a song — a wheezy, 
grasshopper-like buzz. The females were silent, sombre 
little beings — dull olive green above, with a grayish cap 
and paler below. 

After lunch at one o’clock in the afternoon, I started out 
again and climbed to the summit of a densely forested hill, 
southeast of the mine clearing. The tree-tops were filled 
with birds and not for a moment was I entirely out of sight 
or sound of one or more species. A few yards from the clear- 
ing I followed up an excited cackling and found a pair of 
splendid Red-crested Woodpeckers.” ‘They had a nest in 


312 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


a tall dead stub and were trying to dislodge an iguana-which 
was steadily crawling up a neighboring branch. A moment 
after I came into sight one of them struck the lizard with 


Fic. 131. Acouti. (Photo by Sanborn.) 


its wings, whereupon the iguana reared up and lunged with 
open mouth, the birds then ceasing their attack upon the 
inoffensive saurian. 

What splendid birds the Woodpeckers are — strong, active, 
full of vitality and enthusiasm over life. ‘These were big fel- 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 313 


lows, black above, variegated on shoulders and head with 
white; thickly barred below and with a long crest of blazing 
scarlet. They spent much of their time near the bungalow, 
and when they drummed steadily their scarlet head-plumes 
seemed a living flaming haze. 

Near the summit of the hill a tall Silverballi had been felled 
and sawed by hand into boards. This had made a small 
clearing like the one I visited yesterday. The trees were 
filled with many species of birds attracted by the abundant 
insect life, some of which I knew and made notes upon, 
while most were unknown to me. A group of tiny feathered 
beings was busy catching midges near the top of one of the 
highest trees, their sharp cheeps! coming faintly down to me. 
Hopeless of ever observing them at closer range, I secured 
one and found it to be a Buff-tailed Tyrantlet..” This wait 
of the upper air was less than three and a half inches in length 
with rather unusual coloring, the fore part of the body gray, 
the back, wings, lower breast and tail rufous. Its claim to 
the Flycatcher family was proved by the broad beak and 
remarkably long bristles. One must have an aéroplane or, 
more practically, an observing station in the tree-tops to study 
these and a hundred other interesting birds at close range. 
With a couple of hundred spikes as a ladder, I intend some 
day to make one of these mighty trees give up many of its 
secrets. 

As I was about to seat myself on the ground beyond the 
clearing, a big Guan* or Maroodie, as we learned to call it 
here, arose with a loud cackling cry and a rush of wings. 
Simultaneously a dark-colored animal slipped into a hole 
freshly excavated some twenty feet away. 

I lay prone, waiting for some other unexpected manifesta- 
tion of life, but all was quiet. Then I prepared to watch for 
the reappearance of the unknown burrowing creature, and 
pressed my face close among the ferns where I could just see 


314 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the entrance. A minute passed and directly across my line 
of vision, a few inches away from my face, crawled, as rapidly 
as it could move, a very large caterpillar almost four inches 
i length. Never have I seen a more remarkable looking 
one. Its ground color was a peculiar dark wine-red or purple, 
like the plumage of the Pompadour Cotinga. From the 
sides of the back projected brush-like tufts of red and black 
hair, while a continuous line of dense golden hair extended 
out from the body just above the feet. Over six segments 
was drawn a pale yellow pattern of the most delicate lace- 
like markings, a dainty network different on each segment. 
Altogether it was a wondrous creature and entirely put the 
burrowing mammal out of mind. 

I carried it to our improvised laboratory on the veranda 
of the bungalow, but it refused food of all description, and 
day by day became smaller in size and duller in color. In- 
stead of dying, it transformed one night into a large, beautiful 
chrysalid, yellow-green with a pale bloom over the surface. 
It was an inch and a half in length, thick-set in the centre 
and tapering rapidly. The joint between the fifth and sixth 
segments was hinged and the terminal portion would swing 
vigorously from side to side. The spiracle on the sixth 
segment was cream colored and much longer than the others, 
while the bottom of the chrysalid ended in two short, brownish 
spines. Seventeen days later in Georgetown, a beautiful 
orange-shaded Morpho butterfly emerged. I looked it up 
in a curious old volume, ‘‘ The Insects of Suriname” by 
Madame Merriam, written many years ago, and found it was 
a rare insect, Mor pho metellus, light orange on the fore-wings, 
shading toward the body into pale green and on the hinder 
wings to velvety black. From tip to tip it spreads six inches. 

On this tramp I heard at least a dozen unusually loud or 
musical calls and whistles, new to me, which I could not trace 
to their authors. In one case, however, I was successful. 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 315 


Creeping up to a low, thick patch of brush, a splendid scarlet 
bird flew out and alighted twenty yards away, again giving 
utterance to its characteristic loud whistle. ‘To-day I was 
contented with listening and watching, but later I secured 
the bird as I could not otherwise identify it. It was what I 
have christened the Black-headed Scarlet Grosbeak,'* differ- 
ing from the description of this species in being 8? instead of 
74 inches in length. It was scarlet below, dull red above, 
with a scarlet necklace and a jet black head and throat. A 
yellowish female showed herself for only a moment. The 
whistle was loud and penetrating, but sweet in quality. The 
first theme had three distinct phrases which may be repre- 


sented thus: ad at * 


The second consisted of three scales, the first ascending one 
being more abrupt than the succeeding ones, thus: 


eA 


When the first bird ceased, another took up the whistle as 
long as I remained near the place. What splendid birds 
these would be in an aviary, striking both in color and notes. 
The nest, eggs and young, as is the case with so many South 
American birds, are unknown. 

Goldbirds "’ were calling all through the woods, and 
when one paid close attention, considerable variation was 
apparent in their notes. One individual uttered the wheé! 
wheé! o! twice in quick succession with the two introductory 
phrases (vide page 189) only before the first call. This was 
repeated three times and then the bird reverted to the usual 
single utterance. On my way home two agoutis sprang up 
before me and I secured one for the general mess. 


CHAPTER X. 
JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 


SOME PAGES FROM MY DIARY (continued). 


(By C. William Beebe.) 


| es our supply of meat we depended altogether upon 
the efforts of an Indian hunter who made daily excur- 
sions from the clearing after game, and who never failed to 
come back heavily laden with some one of eight or ten 
varieties of edible birds or mammals. He was an Arrawak, 
going by the name of Francis, his real Indian name being of 
course never revealed. Like most of the Indians we met, 
he was quiet, serious and taciturn, but I had the good fortune 
early to win his approbation and to satisfy him that, while my 
hunting clothes were no match for his copper-colored skin 
in stalking animals, yet I could manage to get through the 
woods without any great noise or bustle. The only personal 
information I could obtain from him was that he was born on 
the upper Mazaruni, had a brother and two sisters and was 
‘bout four hand” (twenty) years old. He got fifty cents a 
day and his food for hunting and slept in a tiny hammock 
swung beneath the bungalow floor. The Indian hunter at 
Hoorie was paid sixty-eight cents a day without rations. 
Francis and I had some interesting tramps together and 
one of my most enjoyable memories of these great tropical 
jungles is of this little red-man, short, well-built, muscular and 
absolutely tireless. I found him to be a great help in search- 
ing for certain rare birds and animals, and I learned a good 


deal of jungle craft from him. As one example among many 
316 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 317 


things, I noticed that he never stepped on a log or fallen tree, 
and it was not until I had crashed through and hurt my ankle 
on one which had been undermined by ants that I realized how 
excellent a rule this was. A log of apparently the hardest 
wood might be but a shell thin as paper. The facility with 
which Francis found his way about in rain as well as sunshine 
was a puzzle, until by careful watching I found he was con- 
stantly making new trails by breaking, in the direction of the 
trail, tiny twigs, the leaves of which were of a slightly different 
color beneath. Such a mark every fifteen or twenty feet 
was almost a hopeless clue for me at first, although ultimately 
I learned to discover them more readily. As the breaking 
made no noise and was accomplished by the least motion of 
the hand, it was long before I detected it. When I went out 
alone I chose to leave a “‘blaze’’ every ¢en feet! 

Marcu 30th. —At daybreak we started out on our first 
tramp, I with camera, bag, gun and glasses. Half a mile 
from the clearing I cached the camera and bag, the pace being 
such that I could not keep up while carrying them. I have 
hunted in Canada and elsewhere with first-rate guides and 
backwoodsmen, but this was a very different matter. From 
the moment we entered the jungle the whole demeanor of 
Francis was changed. He walked like a cat and never for a 
moment relaxed his vigilance, and therein he differed from a 
white man, who would unconsciously relax when he thought 
game was still some distance away. His figure slipped silently 
on ahead of me, flowing under trunks, passing around the 
densest clumps of underbrush, while I followed and imitated 
as best I could, learning every minute more than I had ever 
known of the art of effacing oneself in the wilderness. Every 
step was made carefully and the entire field of view ahead 
swept, and every significant sound noted. A branch would 
fall with a series of resounding crashes and the Indian would 
apparently not hear it, while a cracking twig or a low rustle 


318 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


which I could scarcely detect would lead him off in an entirely 
new direction, not necessarily toward the sound, but often 
to flank it or get to leeward of it. During the first two or 
three hours we would give our whole attention to hunting, 
but when the day’s supply was provided, we then stalked the 
birds and wild creatures and watched them, as closely as we 
could. 

Our first tramp was in a general south or southeast direc- 
tion, passing over a succession of hills, five in all, three of 
which were high and quite steep, but all of about the same 
diameter with regular slopes and flat, narrow valleys. These 
were mostly swampy, or if dry had a stream flowing slowly 
along the middle. Agoutis were abundant in such places and 
we could always depend on obtaining them when desired. 

As we left the bungalow I had laughingly asked Mrs. 
Wilshire what meat she desired for dinner and she said 
“Venison.”? So when I told Francis, in the broken English 
which we must use in talking to these Indians, that we must 
get deer, he nodded and disdained the agoutis. If I had 
said, “Francis, we must be sure to get deer to-day in prefer- 
ence to other game,” he would have understood not a 
word. But “Shoot-um deer, eh? no accourie, no labba, no 
maipurie,”’ outlined the day’s work perfectly in his mind. I 
was rather reluctant to use this wm! ugh! language at first; 
it savored too much of theatrical Indian dialect or of 
“penny dreadful” wild-west jargon, but it soon became 
perfectly natural and was really necessary. 

After a half-hour’s walk Francis motioned me to take the 
greatest care, and pressed my shoulder lower until I was 
almost on my knees while we slowly crept around a great 
mora trunk. He pointed steadily ahead, but after a three- 
minute scrutiny I could discern not a sign of life. Then he 
raised his gun and fired, and set loose a half dozen feathered 
bombs, or so it sounded as a flock of nearly full-grown 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU 319 


Guiana Crested Tinamou’ arose with a roar. I secured 
one with a quick snap shot and we tied up the brace of birds 
with a slender tough bush-thread. Fastening head, feet and 
wings together, the Indian tied them ingeniously around his 
waist, the birds hanging down behind out of the way. 

At the sound of the guns three tiny male Purple-throated 
Euphonias ** clad in purple jackets, yellow caps and waist- 
coats, came down to see what the noise was about. They 
were ridiculously tame and sang their simple chattering song 
in our very faces. 

In the fourth valley we found a perfect maze of agouti 
tracks mingled with the fresh imprint of a tapir’s feet. 
Francis showed me the spot where he had shot one of these 
‘“bush-cows”” the week before. A few yards beyond we 
found a deer’s track and in some way the Indian seemed 
to know that the animal was close at hand. We crawled 
silently for twenty or thirty yards through a shallow creek, 
then separated and crept along the slope, one on each side. 
A sudden rustling of vines came from a bend in the stream 
and we both caught sight of the bright rufous flanks of a deer. 
We secured it and then for some reason Francis remained 
perfectly quiet for five minutes while a delightful bit of 
wilderness life appeared close to me. 

The smoke from my gun was still clinging to the great fern 
fronds overhead, when a second deer, a doe, walked fearlessly 
past along the opposite slope, stopping to nibble at a leaf 
now and then, and at last vanished in the underbrush. I 
was about to climb down to the deer we had shot when I 
heard a splash and a weak little bleat, and, looking at a pool 
ahead, there I spied the tiniest of fawns standing in the 
shallows, looking full at me, and now then splashing the 
water. 

I whistled and the little thing started toward me fearlessly, 
standing knee-deep in the water, its tiny rufous form decor- 


320 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


ated with three lines of spots, every one of which was perfectly 
reflected in the water. Suddenly with a snort and a stamp the 
mother took one leap over a bush, her eyes staring in terror 
at me, then turned and vanished. In some way she had 
infused the spirit of fear into her offspring, for with a bleat 
which was almost a shriek the little fellow galloped madly, 
awkwardly after her, tripping every few steps as he turned 
his head to see if this’ awful thing was pursuing. I never 
saw such an instantaneous change from confidence to fear 
in any creature. The most remarkable thing was that the 
mother and fawn had not taken fright at the roar of the guns 
in their very ears. The very loudness and proximity must 
have had a numbing effect on the organs of hearing. I 
found that Francis had seen the second deer after shooting at 
the first, and had lain flat while she walked so near him, that, 
as he showed me by her tracks, he could have reached out 
his hand and touched her as she passed. 

We know but little of the deer of this region, and I took 
some notes on this first Savanna Deer (Odocoileus savan- 
narum) which we obtained for the mess. It was a male 
without horns, and of a uniform rich rufous above with 
grayish-brown head, and the legs up to the hock mouse- 
color. The tip and under side of the tail and inner thighs 
were white, while the rufous color was continuous around 
the breast and belly. The deer stood 243 inches high at the 
shoulder and weighed 70 pounds. It had been feeding on 
leaves and on a great number of seeds of the Kakaralli tree, 
much like the mora. The seeds look like nutmeg in the 
mace, and two grow in each husk. 

The skill and rapidity with which Francis prepared the 
animal for carrying was remarkable. He removed eight- 
foot strips of bark from a small tree which he called Mahoo 
and stripped off the tough pliable inner layer. With this he 
bound the legs and head together, then tied a broad band of 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 321 


bark about the body leaving it loose at the top. I hoisted up 
the deer and he put his arms and shoulders through the 
tied legs as if it had been a pack bag and slipped the loose 
band of bark across his forehead, like the tump-lines of the 
Canadian Indians. 

A gentle cool breeze was blowing down the narrow valley 
and the blood from cleaning the animal had not been exposed 
five minutes when a line of burying beetles and yellow wasps 
began coming up-wind to the feast. Such a summons calls 
them far and wide from their vantage points on leaves and 
branches, where we see them so frequently in walking through 
the jungle. Before fifteen minutes had passed, an Orange- 
headed Vulture * appeared soaring over the little opening 
in ever lessening circles. He too had responded, but as 
much by sight as by scent, to the welcome meal. 

On the way home we frightened a group of large weasel- 
like creatures which we found to be Tayras (Galictis barbara) 
or, as the natives call them, Hackas. Seven ran rapidly 
away snarling and I secured one. They had been feeding 
on big grubs which they had nosed out among the dead 
leaves, a rather remarkable occupation for creatures of the 
fierce Mustelida family. The fur was dark-brown with a 
white spot on the breast, while the tail was long and bushy. 

Before we reached the clearing a Quadrille Bird” sang 
to us from the heart of a tangled swamp, a new theme differ- 
ing from any I had heard: 


During the four mile walk to the clearing there was hardly 
a minute when we were out of sight or sound of birds. Big 
Blue Tinamou' and Jacupeba Guans’ boomed up before 
us; Woodpeckers and Manakins of several species called 


322 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


and flew here and there, while we passed flock after flock 
of Antbirds, Woodhewers, Flycatchers and Tanagers. One 
bird which I secured, the Wallace Olive Manakin,” was al- 
together of a dull olive, with none of the brilliant color patches 
of its congeners. When I went to pick up the specimen I 
saw a curious jointed band lying across it and found a six- 
inch centipede on the bird. ‘The Manakin must have fallen 
across the path of the: Myriapod as it was crawling over the 
jungle floor. While wrapping up this bird, a flock of tiny 
Brown-fronted Jungle Vireos ‘** flew close to us, uttering a 
song like a diminutive alarm clock, Wharrrrrrrrrrr-chee! W hir- 
rrrrvvrrvvvvv-chee! Francis shot one, which was hardly more 
than four inches in length, olive-green above, paler below. 
Those who think that all tropical birds are brightly colored 
should see the great number of species of sober little fellows 
like these. 

MARCH 31st. — Francis and I started out in a light rain 
at daybreak in search of Trumpeters and howling monkeys. 
The cook was well supplied with meat so we did not intend 
to bother with game. With the help of Goeldi’s plates of 
Brazilian birds and much crude attempt at sketching I had 
taught Francis what creatures I wished especially to see. 

About three hundred yards from the clearing Francis 
pointed out a beautiful nest of a White-throated Robin ” 
made of green, growing moss, and placed close to the trunk 
of a tree, about six feet from the ground. We marked the 
spot and went on, but a day or two later I returned and 
examined it more carefully. This Thrush is olive brown 
above, pale below with a streaked chin and throat like our 
northern Robin. Its most characteristic mark, however, is a 
patch of pure white on the upper breast, which flashes out 
like a star among the shadows of the jungle. The parent was 
shy and would slip off at my approach, but return as silently 
if I walked away for a minute. When I prepared to photo- 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 323 


graph the nest she thought something was seriously wrong 
and voiced her alarm with a sharp cut! cut! When I focussed 
close to her home, her anger got the better of her and she 
scolded me roundly with harsh notes, repeated in phrases of 
seven, chack-chack-chack-chack-chack-chack-chack! 

The nest touched the trunk of the tree, but rested on a 
loop of a two-inch bush rope or liana, which swung against 


Fic. 132. NEST AND EGGs OF WHITE-THROATED ROBIN. 


the bark, binding one tree to another. Just below was a 
fungoid excrescence larger than the nest itself. The nest 
was a double one, the new one being built directly on the 
older. The latter was composed of dry dead moss, while the 
new one was fresh and green. ‘There were two eggs, pale 
blue-green, thickly spotted with brown of various shades, 
much more densely at the larger end. 

We found this Robin was a common breeder hereabouts 
and discovered four other nests, all within a half mile of 


324 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the clearing, yet all in deep jungle. The parents differed 
radically in their actions; two allowing us to inspect their 
treasures without fear, while two others became terrified 
if we approached within twenty feet of their nest. 

To return to our Trumpeter and howling monkey hunt; 
it rained much of the morning, but for the most part only 
a drizzle. Francis said that wet weather made bad hunt- 
ing except for deer and bush-cow or tapir, chiefly because 
the continual noise made by the falling rain-drops made 
it difficult to hear the rustlings of birds and animals. 

I thoroughly enjoyed this new aspect of the jungle world. 
As usual small birds were fairly abundant, of which appar- 
ently 99 per cent. were Antbirds or Woodhewers. The 
most common Antbird in the valleys was the Scaly-backed, 
slate-colored except for the feathers of the back, wings 
and tail which were black tipped with white. At one place 
two dozen of these little birds must have been in sight, utter- 
ing sharp, snapping calls, and clinging, ike Marsh Wrens, 
to upright stems in the low underbrush. 

Every now and then we came across a good-sized hole 
with fresh earth thrown out at the entrance. Francis said 
that this was made by a “‘Ydsee”’ and he recognized an 
armadillo when I drew it. 

Suddenly the rain came down in sheets, and streamed 
through the dense foliage. Francis gave me his gun, ran to 
a tooroo palm, a species which has no stem but sends its 
leaves, fern-like, from a base level with the earth. He cut 
off five stalks with as many blows of his knife, brought them 
to me and stuck them upright in the fork of a low branch. 
We stood under them for half an hour and never a drop 
came through, although three inches out in any direction 
the rain was falling in torrents. It was a wonderful example 
of a waterproof shelter put up in about thirty seconds. Can 
we blame these Indians for a general lack of industry, when 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 325 


game is as easy to obtain as we found it, and when one 
may build a house in a half a minute with a few knife 
strokes! } 

During the entire downpour we saw only a Long-tailed 
Hummingbird ” which unconcernedly searched the under- 
sides of leaves for insects. Francis said its nest was hung 
on the side of the tip of a tooroo frond. A fluted tree of 
large size near us he called ballicusan, saying it was used 
for making paddles like ruruli. A section 
would look something like this: 

The folds when cut off are so thin that 
a very little additional shaping forms them 
into blades. 

As we were walking along after the 
shower, several twigs fell on us, which 
would have been unnoticed by me, as *16: 133 SBCTION 

OF PADDLE-wooD 
leaves and even branches are continually pgs. 
dropping in these forests. But Francis 
looked up at once and whispering ‘Baboon’ pointed 
to where a great male red howler (Mycetes seniculus) 
was walking slowly along a branch overhead. A care- 
fully aimed shot brought it to earth, stone dead. It 
was a magnificent specimen weighing just twenty pounds 
and the hyoid bone protruded like an exaggerated Adam’s 
apple.* 

These howling monkeys are of course not really baboons, 
as these latter monkeys live only in the Old World and 


* The color of the back and sides was a light gold, shading into dark 
maroon or red on the head, tail and limbs. The skin of the face, ears, 
palms and scantily haired under parts was dark slate, The eyes were hazel 
brown. The total length was 504 inches, 25 of which consisted of the tail. 
The bare prehensile portion along the lower side of the tail extended 114 
inches backward from the tip. The forearm and hand was 16 inches long; 
the hind leg 18 inches, The hair of the beard was 1} inches long, The 
Monkey had been feeding on leaves and some kind of fruit with stones like 
cherry pits. 


326 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


have short tails; while the howlers are members of the 
American family Cebide. : 

They are of a low type of intelligence and will not live 
long in captivity, being morose and sullen, very unlike other 
smaller South American primates. The hyoid bones in the 
throat are enlarged to form a great thin-walled bony 
drum, which is the chief instrument in the production of 
their wonderful voice. 

There were two females and a smaller male in this party, 
but I got no clear sight of the others after I shot the old one. 
As in the case of the deer, tiny burying beetles began coming 
within two minutes after the blood of the baboon had been 
splashed on the leaves. We had walked for ten or fifteen 
minutes after shooting the monkey when we heard an infan- 
tile roar from the remaining male. ‘This the old one would 
never have allowed, so we had an interesting example of the 
almost immediate usurping of the leadership by a young 
animal, at the death of presumably its parent. 

Francis had remarkable eyesight, and when he once real- 
ized that I was interested in small birds and other objects 
he would silently point out everything in our path. In this 
way I found a remarkable frog which was so protected by 
its color and markings that I should never have discovered it 
by myself. I have mentioned it before as being of good 
size, earthern brown in color, with a tall, thin leaf-like ridge 
on the head over each eye and a row of light-grey tubercles 
like fringe down each side of the body. From the tip of the 
nose to the tail extended a narrow, pale bluish line and exter- 
nally there seemed to be almost no differentiation between 
head and body. 

I heard Red-billed Toucans** calling in a high tree and 
stalking them, succeeded in shooting two, both males, one 
younger than the other. The coloring of their beaks was 
wonderfully brilliant and variegated. Their notes were of 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 327 


the Robin-song type, Phéo-pha! although the resemblance to 
a puppy’s voice was also strong. ‘They had been feeding on 
seeds with a pinkish pulp which Francis called suluwafaddy. 

There were three Toucans in this group and when the first 
old bird was shot the others returned and called continuously 
and loudly. The third also came back to the same tree and 
I found that this was the adult female. 

In this case as always, I did not take the life of a living 
creature without some good reason: for sport, never — but 
either as food, or as in this instance as the only way to solve 
a problem of scientific interest. I had noticed trios of Tou- 
cans in many places and wondered whether the third bird 
was an extra female or young. On the following day I 
observed no fewer than five separate trios of Toucans of two 
species, and now that I knew the dull-colored upper tail- 
coverts were a clue to the young bird of the year, my high 
power stereo glasses showed me a single young in each instance. 
We know practically nothing of the nesting habits of this 
group except from vague accounts. So it is certain that in 
this region the rule is that only one young bird is reared 
to maturity. 

The loud hollow whirring of the wings of these birds often 
drew our eyes up to the tree-tops and we had many oppor- 
tunities of watching them feed. The commonest way was 
for them to creep out as far as they dared to the branch 
tips and then crane their necks and bills to reach the fruit. 
But often they adopted a more spectacular method. A trio 
would beat heavily into a berry-laden tree and perch quietly 
a few moments, looking carefully in all directions for danger, 
overhead for hawks and eagles, beneath and around for 
monkeys, opossums and snakes. Then one would launch 
out, make a flying leap at a pendent cluster of fruit, clutch 
it frantically with its feet, and dangle and sway for ten seconds 
at a time — reaching out the while and filling its bill with 


328 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the berries. Then when the bird dropped exhausted to a 
branch below, it would swallow what it had gathered. 

After shooting the Toucans I leaned my gun against a 
patch of black moss on a tree trunk. To my astonishment 
the moss whirled outward and back, and then I saw it was a 
host of caterpillars crowded as densely as they could be in 
a patch three feet high and forming a semicircle about the 
six-inch trunk. ‘They were covered with black, branched, 
stinging hairs, with two longer tufted ones on the segments 
near the head. As Francis said, ‘“‘ Um wurrum’s hairs bite 
hard! ”’ 

I began experimenting with their reaction motions. I 
found that any ss¢ sound or hiss, the snapping of fingers, 
whistling, hand clapping, or pounding on the metal or wood 
of my gun, caused absolutely no response on the part of the 
caterpillars. No matter how close to the creatures or how 
loud or sudden was the sound, unless they were touched they 
did not move. On the contrary, any utterance of such sounds 
as bis! bow! bing! buzz! even when so low as hardly to rise 
above a whisper, caused every caterpillar of the many hun- 
dreds to react as one. The head with the long tufted appen- 
dage was jerked quickly backward, then down, and on the 
edges of the mass from side to side. Those in the centre, 
because of their position, had only the up and down flick. 
The effect as a whole was indescribable. An inconspicuous 
growth of moss was transformed like a flash into a seething, 
rearing mass of waving caterpillars. A suggestion, altogether 
theoretical, is that the reaction to the buzzy sounds may 
hint that the chief danger feared by these caterpillars is 
the fatal buzz of the wings of the ichneumon fly. 

This evening we added baboon and bill-bird to our veni- 
son, and were surprised to find the former tender and by no 
means devoid of taste. The Toucans were tough, but more 
than one of us came back for a second helping of ‘ howler ”’ 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 329 


— in spite of the cannibalistic chaff with which we were 
regaled! 


The rain had increased in amount successively during the 
last three days and to-night a new sound was added to our 


a, 
é 
+ 
7 
* 
‘ 
1 


ae 


s 


= ee So 
» ha 


Fic. 134. PHONETIC CATERPILLARS. 


nocturnal chorus — the Bubbling or Gurgling Frogs, which, 
by the score, vented their joyful emotions in energetic gulps 
from the jungle at the edge of the clearing. 

ApriL 1st. — Having missed finding Trumpeters yesterday, 
Francis promised them for to-day and we took a long tramp 
full of incident as usual. We circled to the north, swinging 


330 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


around beyond the first two valleys and then turning and 
describing a second curve intersecting the first. "Two of the 
Jungle Wrens or Quadrille Birds ™ sang their incomparable 
strains, each with a theme of its own. The first had two 
phrases which it uttered alternately, thus; 


(SSeS eee 


There is ae no other bird song with which to com- 
pare it. The timbre, when heard at a distance, is that of the 
Wood Thrush quality — sweet, liquid and altogether ethereal. 
But the distinctness of the notes and their remarkably intri- 
cate trios and gradations are wholly unique. ‘Three or four 
large species of Antbirds ran rapidly here and there, hold- 
ing their short tails erect and jerking them frequently, thus 
presenting a decidedly ralline appearance. 

We saw several Little Tinamous® in the course of the 
day, one of which I shot. When the cook cleaned it in the 
evening, he found an egg about to be laid. Several days 
later a short distance from the clearing, a bird of this species 
was flushed from a slight hollow between the buttresses of a 
mora. The following day when the bird flew from the same 
spot it was found that an egg had been deposited. It was of _ 
a burnished purple color and was 35 45 mm. in size. Al- 
though we knew that the egg had been laid less than twenty- 
four hours before, yet 1t contained an embryo corresponding 
to a four day chick. This fact, in the case of these generalized 


birds, may have some significance when we remember the 
advanced state of embryonic development characterizing the 
newly laid eggs of many reptiles. 

After an hour or more of the most careful stalking in a 
low swampy valley, we heard the unmistakable thunderings 
of Trumpeters * or Warracabras, and my blood leaped in 
response. Long before I could hear them, Francis had 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 231 


distinguished the low booming note amid all the other jungle 
sounds. I had studied specimens for months in the north and 
had searched in vain for any definite account of their habits. 
And now, although the briefness of my stay would permit of 
almost no chance for real investigation, yet here at any rate 
were the birds themselves in their native haunts. At last we 
flushed two which flew down from their perch with a sudden 
whirr of wings and ran swiftly out of sight. As they flew 
they uttered the familiar Chack! chack! 

These interesting birds have no near relations, but form 
a Sub-order by themselves. ‘They run very swiftly but sel- 
dom use their wings, and although they swim quite well, 
rivers of any size are never crossed. Large flocks are some- 
times met with, but the birds travel more often in small 
parties. They feed on the ground and roost in the tall trees. 
The voice has many variations but the sound from which the 
name is derived is very loud and sonorous, and can be heard 
at a great distance. Trumpeters are very common pets 
among the Indians, to whom they become greatly attached, 
and although given full liberty in the midst of the dense bush 
they never attempt to return to their former homes. When 
standing upright, the Trumpeter reaches a height of from 
18 to 20 inches. The head and neck are black and covered 
with soft velvety feathers, about a quarter of an inch in length, 
and slightly recurved. On the upper part of the breast and 
the lower part of the neck a purplish iridescence appears on 
the feathers while the rest of the plumage is entirely black, 
with the exception of a brownish band across the back, and 
the grayish plume-like secondaries. The tail is very soft 
and does not exceed four inches in length and is indeed 
hidden by the wing feathers. 

I made careful inquiry concerning the nesting of the 
Common Trumpeter. So-called biographers have credited 
it with nesting on the ground or in a hole high up a tree; of 


332 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


laying from two to ten or more eggs, which in the words of the 
describers are white, dirty-white, or green! 

I questioned Francis at various times and could never 
get him to vary his answers. He said that the Trumpeter 
nested in the hollow of a tree and laid three, four or five 
white eggs. ; 

On another occasion I questioned the Indian who hunted 
for Mr. Nicholson at Matope and he said the Warracabra 
builds a nest of leaves well up in a tree and lays five white 
eggs, 

While waiting for the Trumpeters we heard the strange 
Bare-headed Cotinga*’ or Calf-bird. The note has been 
compared to the lowing of a cow, but to me it seemed much 
more musical, resembling the humming of a goblet when 
one’s moistened finger is rubbed around the rim. The 
bird is yellowish brown with a bare head and keeps to the 
tops of the trees. It is not shy however and can easily be 
approached and watched with the glass. 

The most interesting discovery I made to-day was the 
elaborate courtship and challenge performance of the Crested 
Curassow.* In a low bit of valley with thick underbrush 
we put up a deer which dashed off before we could catch 
more than a glimpse of it. It was followed by two agoutis, 
one of which we gathered in for dinner. The note of alarm 
of these rodents is a loud nasal Waaaah! Then Francis 
clutched my arm and by listening intently I could just hear a 
faint low mumbling. It might have been a bumble bee a few 
feet away, but the Indian pointed to the east and said “ Pow- 
ies —Warracabras! Me go shootum labba.” Which very 
plainly meant that there were Curassows and Trumpeters 
near me and that he would leave me to stalk and study them, 
while he went to secure a toothsome paca for dinner. 

I cached my gun, in fact everything but my glasses, and 
began creeping as silently as possible down the course of 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 3350 


the little valley. Francis, quietly amused, smiled as I tied 
my handkerchief tenderfoot fashion to my gun; expressing 
quite as much as a multitude of chaffing remarks could have 
done. 


First PHASE OF CURASSOW STRUTTING, A SLOW WALK WITH RAISED TAIL. 


Fic. 135. Rear view. Fic. 136. Side view. 


Foot by foot I pushed through or crawled under fallen 
trees and tangled vines and tree-ferns, close to the hot steam- 
ing forest mould, with the low distant booming becoming 
ever more distinct. The ventriloquial quality completely 
deceived me, and long after I thought to see the performer I 
went on and on for many yards. At last I turned to the 
south to gain the shelter of a great fallen tree which had 


334 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


begun to merge its rotten wood with the débris of the jungle 
floor. I shall never forget pushing aside a mass of beautiful 
green orchids and slipping into a great hollow made by a 
second tree which had fallen athwart the first. Just beyond 
were three Crested Curassows,* a male and two females, 
the latter busy scratching among the dead leaves, while 
the male was devoting himself to a most remarkable per- 
formance.* . 

The splendid bird walks slowly up and down the clear 
space which he has chosen. The entire body is tilted far 
forward, the breast low and the wings pointing down in 
front, the wrist portion, or shoulder as it is often wrongly 
called, dropping almost to the ground. ‘The wing tips lie flat 
upon the back, and the tail is raised, while the head is held 
high, almost touching the back and tips of the wings. The 
tail, carrying out the line of the back, points straight upward, 
and the white belly, flanks and especially the under tail-coverts 
are fluffed out to their greatest extent, forming a most 
conspicuous white mark against the black of the remaining 
plumage. (Fig. 135.) 

Now from a tree near by comes a low penetrating moan 
or muffled boom. ‘The bird in front of me at once changes 
his whole demeanor. He continues his walking but it 
assumes more of a mincing character, uttering all the 
while several notes, like low but shrill squeaks or gurgles, 
mingled with snorts and snores, all rather subdued. These 


* There were several intervening branches, and two or three links in the 
performance were not clear until I returned north. 

Col. Anthony R. Kuser has most kindly put his splendid aviaries at 
Bernardsville, New Jersey, at my disposal for scientific investigation, and here, 
for a month or more after our return, a male Curassow would go through this 
whole performance for the benefit of anyone who would watch him. After 
the various “stunts”? had been performed, he would fly at the feet of the 
observer and, wrapping his wings about one’s shoes, would peck savagely 
at the shoestrings. From this and other indications I decided that the per- 
formance is more in the nature of a challenge than a courtship display. 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 335 


seem rather hit or miss, there being no regular sequence or 
similarity of the utterances. Several times these sounds are 
interrupted by the bird stopping, appearing to pick up 
something, and then to dash its head violently against its 
back, producing a low champing sound which seems to 
excite the females, who otherwise are wholly indifferent. 
Try as I may I can make nothing of this action, and later it 


SECOND PHASE OF CURASSOW STRUTTING. 


Fic. 137. Standing with Pebble in Beak, striking the Head against 
the Back. 


is an indiscreet, impatient movement of mine at such a 
juncture that ultimately frightens the birds and ends my 
observations. I was delighted therefore when observing the 
Curassow in the north to see the bird repeatedly pick up peb- 
bles or a feather or twig and champ them in its bill just as 
the wild bird did. ‘The clicking sound resulted only when a 
hard object was picked up, but the dull thuds were made 
by the skull of the bird striking violently against its dorsal 


336 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


vertebrae, the object it had picked up being held meanwhile 
in. its billy (Pig. 1279) 

The wild Curassow soon drops whatever it has picked up 
and claps its wings together seven or eight times over its 
back, making a loud slapping sound. It then turns its back 
on its rival in the tree, plucks nervously at the wings, right 
and left, for a full minute or longer, and then reaches con- 
vulsively forward several times, with its head and neck, the 
bill being wide open, gulping in a great quantity of air. Its 
abdominal air-sacs swell, its wings are lowered and rounded 
out until the bird appears half as large again as usual. Thus 
it stands, half squatting with lowered head and tail, and 
within a period of five to ten seconds utters usually four notes 
of the deepest and most penetrating character. Now that I 
am within a few yards, they sound no louder than when sev- 
eral hundred yards away. The exertion put forth shows this 
vocal effort to be a strenuous one, and at the second perform- 
ance the tones are rather low and confused. But the normal 
utterance, this climax of the whole challenge, is as follows: 


ee 
. 


This may be imitated by anyone with a deep bass voice by 
humming the syllables Um, um, um-um-um, to the notes 
as I have written them. 

During this period the actor, as observed in the captive 
specimen, seems almost in a trance, standing with half closed 
eyes, oblivious even of a hand resting on the feathers of his 
back, and the recovery is slow, the bird seeming dazed for a 
short time. 

As I lay concealed in the Guiana forest, the whole per- 
formance was repeated five times in twelve minutes, the 


Xx | | 
cx | | | 


e 
4 


“YI! 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. aoe 


Curassow appearing most excited after it had finished the 
challenge call. It frequently ran to the hens and walked 
about them, while the captive bird which I observed paid no 
attention to the hens, but showed off to human visitors and 
devoted himself to attacks upon their footwear. 

No part of the performance was ever omitted. Invariably 
he turned his back on his rival or observer, invariably he 
first walked and snorted, then champed and clapped his 


THIRD PHASE OF CURASSOW STRUTTING. 


Fic. 138. Back turned, Wings lowered, Air-sacs inflated, uttering 
the penetrating Challenge Call. 


wings, and finally sent out his challenge. As I have said, one 
may closely imitate this call, and the birds, as I learned on 
another occasion, will respond to repeated calls and come 
within shooting distance. 

Taken altogether, the performance was a most delightful 
insight into the lives of these little known birds, and the 
complexity and intricate succession of the various maneuvres 
was remarkable. As I have said, at one of the pebble champ- 
ing periods I become so interested that I made a noise and the 


338 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


three birds rose at once and whirred away, while I retraced 
my steps. I returned as carefully as possible and encountered 
a troup of small monkeys which passed close overhead, 
sending down a rain of dead twigs. ‘They apparently have 
the habit of breaking off twigs when they are progressing 
leisurely, as I observed this same unnecessary amount of 
falling twigs and branches on several other occasions. When 
thus engaged they make a great racket, uttering now and 
then plaintive, inarticulate sounds. When once they spy 
you beneath them a sudden chorus arises like the greatly 
exaggerated swearing of a red squirrel, and off they go 
rapidly, silently, with not a sound of breaking branches. 

Finding a good point of vantage not far from my gun and 
bag, I waited for Francis, squatting —coolie fashion —out 
of respect to the béte rouge which were numerous and en- 
thusiastic at this point! I sat there five minutes and not a 
moment was devoid of interest. I accidentally snapped a 
stick, and like an electric spark came a sharp gizz! at my 
very elbow. I jumped as if an electric shock had indeed 
accompanied it, and then broke another stick. Again the 
zizz! snapped in answer, and close to my resting place I 
discovered a ‘‘Six o’clock Bee,” as the natives call these 
giant cicadas (Cicada grossa). Like the Curassow, he was 
on the qui vive for rivals and ready with his challenge. As 
often as I snapped a stick, he whirred out an answer. 

A pair of Blue-and-yellow Macaws* screamed. When 
heard in the distance, all harshness is eliminated from 
their voices, and an extremely human quality of sound is 
acquired, as of one person calling in a high tone to another. 
A Green Cassique *° whirred overhead, tolled his cow-bell 
and strutted with slow elaborateness. Suddenly a pair of 
Trumpeters ” came into view, but saw me at the same in- 
stant, and with loud chacks! fled in all haste. Going on to 
our meeting place I almost stepped on Francis, who had 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 339 


been quietly watching me and resting after having returned 
with a load of game. 

We struck the broken twig trail on which we secured the 
old howling monkey yesterday, and a few hundred yards 
from the spot we heard the young male roaring. He had 
improved wonderfully on his falsetto yell of yesterday, and 
except for a general weakness of volume and an occasional 
break and tendency to get out of breath, he made a good 
showing in the vocal gymnastics of his race. Twice after 
this we ran across the youngster and each time he was howling, 
but entirely alone. He had not yet secured a mate and his 
mother and aunt had apparently deserted him upon his 
assumption of leadership! 

A half-hour’s walk close to the clearing this afternoon 
revealed birds everywhere in flocks, passing leisurely. Small 
Woodpeckers were tapping, Woodhewers picking and pry- 
ing, Antbirds peering under leaves and twigs, and the Fly- 
catchers audibly snapping up insects in mid-air. The jungle 
was filled with dee-dee-dees, chirps, chacks, low mewings 
and whistles, while a rain of falling leaves, ripe berries, dead 
twigs and bits of bark marked the progress of the flocks. I 
shot a number of birds which were new to me, one of which 
I could not find until after ten minutes’ search. When I 
discovered it, a line of ants five yards long had formed and 
it was covered with their bodies. So swiftly do tropical 
scavangers work! 

I secured a Wedge-billed Pygmy Woodhewer” with its 
single young one, which must have left the nest that very 
day. Curiously enough, the latter perched as often as it 
clung to the tree-trunks, and keeping this in mind I found 
that the measurements of the two birds were very interesting. 
There was almost no difference between the length of the 
wings and beaks of parent and young, but the tail of the 
young bird was only rg inches in length as compared with 


340 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


4? inches in the adult. From this it appears that the climbing 
habit is not developed as early in the young Woodhewer 
as in Woodpeckers, in which it seems instinctive from 
the first. 

Resting my camera for a moment against the buttress of 
a giant mora, a small brown bird flew out and I recognized 
another Wedge-billed Pygmy Woodhewer.* It flew to a 
sapling and peered at me around the side. When I did not 
move away it came nearer and voiced its disapproval by a 
five-syllabled cry, chik-chik-chik-chik-chik! ‘This made me 
suspicious and peering down a narrow crevice formed by a 
deep fold in the buttress I caught a glint of white, and finally 
made out three eggs, one of which seemed to be freshly broken. 
A safer or cosier place could not be imagined. ‘The crevice 
was eighteen inches deep and only two inches wide, with the 
opening of the fold almost closed by a small dangling bush 
rope. The nest itself was only two feet above the ground. 
The eggs were pure white and were laid on a thin net-work 
of rootlets and fibres resting on the black mould which had 
collected in the crevice. ‘The following day it took me two 
hours of hard work, cutting and sawing, to reach the nest, 
and when Milady spooned up nest and eggs, four good-sized 
scorpions came with them, unpleasant guests I should think! 
There were two eggs in the nest and a broken one on the 
ground outside which the parent had removed the night 
before. This egg had probably been broken by the hurried 
flight of the parent on the preceding day. ‘The eggs were a 
broad oval in shape, dull white and both measured 20 by 
16 mm. 

Four other pairs of birds were nesting on this side of the 
clearing, Yellow-winged Honey Creepers,’ Jungle Wrens,” 
two pair of White-throated Robins,’” and a Guiana Quail 
or Douraquara.® This last I found wholly by accident as I 
was watching a dragon-fly which had been injured by a small 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 341 


Flycatcher. Good-sized pieces were bitten out of the two 
hind wings and one of the others was doubled and broken. 
Yet the brave little insect was far from giving up and managed 
to fly slowly, albeit with a heavy slant to one side, the loose 
wing making a whizzing sound as it vibrated. I followed 
to see its ultimate fate. As it passed the end of a log a green 
lizard leaped from a leaf and seized the unfortunate insect 
in mid-air, thus typifying the anlaga of bird flight. The 
lizard fell full length upon arounded pile of dead leaves and 
like a bomb there shot forth the whirring form of the Quail, 
which scaled off between the trees. 

We found the Douraquara*® had rocketted from a tunnel 
about a foot in length, made of twigs and dead leaves, which 
led to a round hidden nest cavity containing four white eggs, 
one of which was broken. On the following day the Quail 
had removed all trace of broken egg and shell. So com- 
pletely was the nest a part of the jungle floor that never 
except by accident would we have discovered it. 

Day after day, on every tramp we took we were more and 
more impressed with the myriad examples of protective form 
and coloration. As I have said before, it is the immense 
variety rather than the exactness of detail which makes these 
resemblances so effective. I became so confused at times that 
repeatedly I would net a falling leaf or blossom or even fire 
at an imaginary bird, or on the other hand fail altogether to 
notice some rare bird or insect until I passed on some distance 
and happened to turn around. For instance, while walking 
along I saw something drift down and catch on a leaf. I 
thought to myself, this is surely an insect, although a most 
remarkable mimic. Then I bent over and examined it 
closely, lifting the branch close to my eyes, and decided it 
was nothing but a dead leaf, half curled and shrivelled up. 
As I turned away I swooped at it idly with my net and lo! 
it took to flight and cost me several yards of hard pursuit 


342 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


before I secured it again. The irregularity of its wings, 
their leaf-brown color edged with a line of yellow, and the 
remarkable drifting flight in full sunshine, all helped to de- 
ceive me. It was a moth, Gonodonta pyrgo. 

The Goldbirds,”’ although the size of large Thrushes, are 
absolutely indistinguishable in their garb of dull brown in 
the shadowy mid-forest, neither descending to the ground nor 
ascending to the sun-lit tree-tops. 

Almost as common as the piercing wheé! wheé! o! of the 
Goldbirds was a less loud but penetrating Chuckle-de-deé! 
which we heard almost as soon as we entered the shadows 
of the jungle. ‘Three days of intermittent search passed 
before we discovered the author of this omnipresent sound. 
The note seemed to come from the tree-tops and we uncon- 
sciously held in mind a bird at least the size of the Goldbird. 
Imagine our surprise when, after searching the branches with 
aching necks, we finally detected the bird in the very act, 
finding it perched only about ten feet above our heads. 
It was a veritable mite of a bird, the Golden-crowned Mana- 
kin ™° clad in forest green with a tiny crown spot of yellow. 
From head to tail he measured less than three inches, and of 
all the marvels which we have encountered in our travels 
the most remarkable was how such a tiny creature, con- 
siderably smaller than our Ruby-crowned Kinglet, could 
produce such a tremendous volume of sound. His Chuckle- 
de-deé! can easily be heard a hundred yards away through 
dense forest. 

Once identified it was an easy matter to locate these little 
Manakins. ‘They loved the deep, damper parts of the woods 
and were ridiculously tame, perching quietly and calling 
continuously when one walked around within arm’s reach. 
We discovered the nest of one of these birds a short distance 
from the mine clearing in a sapling about seven feet from the 
ground, a very frail affair suspended in the fork of a branch. 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 343 


It was merely a thin cup of fine bush threads and rootlets, 
while two or three small leaves were fastened to the bottom 
with strands of cobweb. One could see through it any- 
where. It was only 1? inches across and ? of an inch deep 
inside the cup. 

The bird was on the nest and refused to leave until we 
lifted her off and photographed her. Then she flew and 
chuckle-de-deed with all her little power! 


FIG. 139. GOLDEN-CROWNED MANAKIN LIFTED FROM NEST. 


While insects were far from rare in the jungle itself, they 
were present in myriads in the little fallen-tree clearings. 
Blue Morphos flashed in and out of the thickets, while white- 
spotted, clicking ones, snapped back and forth. In the 
darker recesses the transparent Ghost Butterflies flew 
silently and almost invisibly, while Heliconias threaded the 
vines. Giant bees buzzed past now and then. One which 
I caught was an inch and a half long with tremendously 


344 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


thick and hairy hind legs, an orange collar across the front 
of the thorax and an equally broad band of yellow on the 
abdomen (Centis americana). 

Among the most interesting birds which we found nesting 
were Dusky Parrots. About one hundred yards from the 
clearing we observed two red-breasted Parrots fly from a 


Fic. 140. YOUNG Dusky PARROTS. 


hole about forty feet up in a tall dead kakeralli tree. We 
watched the tree, morning and afternoon for several days, 
often for an hour at a time, but neither saw nor heard anything 
of the birds. Fearing that we had been deceived in thinking 
they were nesting we had a black cut down the tree, but no 
sooner had the dust settled from the débris of rotten wood 
than a chorus of raucous cries arose, and four young Parrots, 
nearly fledged, were gathered into a hat. 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 345 


The quartet showed an interesting sequence of growth, 
there being several days’ difference between each one. The 
youngest was clad only in quill-like blood feathers; number 
two had the scapulars, part of the crown, the breast and a 
half inch of the tail feathers out of the sheath. Number three 
was pretty well feathered except for face, throat, under 
wings and sides, while number four was to all intents and 
purposes a real Parrot! The way in which the old birds kept 
hidden was remarkable. 

One day Milady and I started out with only the lay of the 
land and a compass for guide and walked straight toward 
that unknown region lying to the northwest. A whole 
chapter could be written of our observations on that single 
tramp, but I shall keep our notes for a future work on the 
natural history of this region and add to this already too 
lengthy account only a few paragraphs. 

We saw many Lavender Jays restless and numerous, 
yet curious to know what manner of beings we were. Their 
alarm note Keeeow! accompanied us for a long distance. 
Later in the morning we spent some time watching a dense 
line of parasol ants. ‘They were as gay as Fifth Avenue on 
Easter Sunday, being laden with the purple and white blos- 
soms of some forest tree. The broad wavering banners 
interspersed with those insects which bore stamens and 
pistils lance-like, presented a most humanly comical appear- 
ance. The tiny creatures are so serious and in such a hurry 
and yet look so tipsy and political, that one never tires of 
watching them. 

Black clouds and a high wind overtook us and we walked 
rapidly on, looking for some sort of shelter. We were lucky 
enough to discover a huge tree, hollow, even to the centre 
of the buttresses and this we made our headquarters during 
the storm. From each of four natural windows we watched 
the jungle life during the rain. A small patch of the black 


346 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Fic. 141. EARLY MORNING IN THE WILDERNESS. 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 347 


caterpillars was near by on a light-barked tree, all reacting 
or not according to whether we ejaculated sst! or buzz! As 
before they were very conspicuous and made no attempt at 
concealment, although at a distance they resembled a black 
knot-hole on the trunk. But their réle was evidently to 


Fic. 142. INDIAN HUNTER BRINGING IN A PECCARY. 


depend on their threatening actions and their even more 
reliable stinging hairs. 

On the very floor of our shelter a tragedy was enacted. A 
small wasp (Notogonza sp.) less than an inch in length with 
a splash of gilt on thorax and head, dashed upon a brown 


348 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


cricket (Gryllus argentinus) more than twice its size, and stung 
it. Then the wasp left its prey and ran off about eight inches 
to a round hole which it had excavated in the black wood 
mould. Back to the cricket again it came, turned it right 
side up, seized it by the head and began to drag it along. 
Although I can hardly credit the wasp with the conscious 
intention, yet its sting had certainly been delivered in exactly 
the right spot. The whole cricket was paralyzed except 
for the two front pair of legs. The motor nerves of these 
were unaffected and they kept up a convulsive pulling and 
pushing which aided the wasp greatly in its difficult task. 
Indeed the wasp did little but straddle its prey and steer, while 
the cricket pushed itself along. 

Just before the latter disappeared still kicking into the 
hole, the wasp stung it again and laid a small curved white 
egg on one of the hind legs of the cricket. The hole was just 
the right bore to admit the body of the victim and was six 
inches deep. 

As soon as the sun came out, huge metallic Buprestid 
beetles boomed about the trunk and the Woodhewers began 
their sweet scale-songs, and close over our heads a tiny 
Golden-crowned Manakin “° joined in with his Chuckle-de 
deé!, the effort almost lifting him from his perch. 

2 2 or Foe EE Sa Ne 

In offering these notes on the jungle life about the Aremu 
clearing, I have purposely refrained from classifying them, as 
I wished the reader to realize how, in this region of super- 
abundant life, events crowd in upon one — insect, bird, 
flower, animal—without apparent rhyme or reason. Yet they 
really pass in splendid sequence, the key to which lies in the 
ultimate relation of each to the other. Some day, if we do not 
delay until the destroying hand of man is laid over this whole 
region, we may hope partially to disentangle the web. Then, 
instead of a seeming tangle of unconnected events, all will be 


JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU. 349 


seen in their real perspective: The flower adapted to the 
insect; the insect hiding from this or that enemy; the bird 
showing off its beauties to its mate, or searching for its 
particular food. These things can never be learned in a 
museum or zodlogical park, or by naming a million more 
species of organisms. We must ourselves live among the 
creatures of the jungle, and watch them day after day, 
hoping for the clue as to the why—the everlasting why of 
form and color, action and life. 


CHAPTER, AL 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 
. (By C. William Beebe). 


X 7 E had made two successful expeditions into the jungle 
or “bush” of Guiana, and now our third and last trip 
was to be in the open savanna region in the eastern portion of 
the Colony, near the coast. The first resident American to 
welcome us to British Guiana was Mr. Lindley Vinton who, 
with Mrs. Vinton, did all in their power to make our stay 
in Georgetown a pleasant one. ‘Their house was made our 
home and certainly no strangers in a strange land were ever 
made more welcome than were we. 

Mr. Vinton is a living refutation of the statement that 
continued residence in the tropics invariably results in loss 
of energy, for seldom, even in our own virile country, can one 
find a man more full of vitality. At the time of our visit 
he was interested in several large concessions, one of which 
was a rice growing proposition on the Abary River. 

When he promised ‘“‘Canje Pheasants,’”’ or Hoatzins in 
his back yard, and thousands of Ducks flying past every day, 
we smiled as we remembered the Hoatzins in the depths of the 
Venezuelan mangroves. But, exaggerated as we believed 
his enthusiastic reports to be, we were glad indeed to accept 
his invitation to spend a week at the bungalow on the rice 
plantation. We ultimately found that he had actually 
understated the conditions of bird life on the Abary! 

On April rath, Milady and I took the funny little compart- 
ment train for Abary Bridge, or, as our ticket read, Bella- 
drum, which we reached at 9.30 after a two hours’ slow ride. 

Jae 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 351 


The land along the coast is all flat savanna, dotted for 
the first half of the journey with tumbled down coolie huts 
and tiny dyked fields of pale green young rice. Later for 
some distance these give place to large groves of cocoanuts. 
On the left, stretch the seawall dykes, relics of Dutch in- 
dustry, perfected by the English. 

Throughout the entire journey, hundreds, sometimes 
thousands of birds were in sight, often for several miles in 
succession; but as exactly similar scenes were later visible 
and at closer range on our up-river trip, I will not repeat 
myself. 

The train was stopped for our benefit at the bridge across 
the so-called Abary River, which proved to be a little stream 
only about a hundred and twenty-five feet wide. Load- 
ing our luggage and ourselves into a fussy little launch we 
chugged up-river for three hours. 

Along the right bank —the leeward — for most of the dis- 
tance, grew an irregular fringe of bushes and low trees. Be- 
yond, almost to the horizon, stretched the vast savanna, 
covered with reeds, rushes and tall coarse grass, each a pure 
culture in its place of occurrence. 

Scattered over this great expanse were myriads of birds 
of many species, the only other visible living creatures being 
a small herd of half-wild cattle here and there. 

For the first few miles two species predominated —as they 
had almost all the way from Georgetown —the Little Yellow- 
headed ** and the Red-breasted Blackbirds.”” Few more 
beautiful sights can be imagined than a cloud of these birds 
rising ahead of the train or launch, and scattering far and 
wide over and through the reeds. The general color of both 
is a rich black, which itself contrasts strongly with the green 
of the savanna. But when we add to this the brilliant yel- 
low head and neck of the former and the scarlet throats, 
breasts and wing edges of the latter, the color scheme is one 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


352 


"VNNVAVS YHAIQY AUVAY AHI NO Lax y NVOMANY 


“CVE “SLi 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 353 


which is never forgotten. The two species would rise in 
distinct flocks, perhaps six or eight hundred of each, flow up 
and over the tall grass in two living waves of scarlet and gold, 
and then intermingle, the rain of red and yellow sparks being 
gradually quenched by the green expanse, as the birds settled 
among the shelter of the reeds. Of course these flocks 
were composed only of those individuals close to the track or 
the river bank. How many myriads were scattered over the 
savanna we shall never know. We must have flushed a great 
many thousand of these two species in the course of the day, 
and scattered among them were a few Guiana Meadow 
larks *” looking much like our northern birds. 

Every few dozen yards over the savanna, a tall white figure 
stood motionless, silently watching us —American Egrets * 
distributed for their day’s fishing, hundreds dotting the marsh, 
each solitary, statuesque. Among them was a sprinkling of 
Wood Ibises * and beautiful Cocoi Herons.** These latter 
were much shyer than the others and all within a hundred 
yards of us would take to flight as we passed, leaving their 
more fearless comrade-fishers in full possession. 

All these Herons soon became a common sight, and we 
swept mile after mile of savanna with our glasses, seeing noth- 
ing but the white birds dotted everywhere. At last we were 
rewarded, and a giant white Stork came into sight, towering 
above the Herons, with black head and neck, and the sun 
reflected from the distended scarlet skin of the lower neck. 
The bill had the faintest of tilts upward and we knew we 
were looking for the first time at a living Jabiru,” the biggest 
and perhaps the rarest wading bird of our continent. It 
stands fully five feet in height and the spread of the wings is 
about eight feet. 

Soon another appeared a half mile farther on, and a third, 
and before our journey’s end we had seen at least a dozen 
of these splendid birds. We have but one or two meagre 


354 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


descriptions of its nesting and I therefore have included 
among the illustrations a most interesting one taken by Dr. 
Bingham, showing a Jabiru on its nest together with its 
two half-grown young. ‘These birds do not nest on the 
Guiana savanna but retire at the rainy season far into 
the interior. 


Fic. 144. NEST AND YOUNG OF JABIRU. (Photo by Bingham.) 


Spur-winged Jacanas”* in loud cackling pairs were every- 
where, showing conspicuously against the green reeds — dark 
chocolate when at rest and flashing pale yellow in flight. 
Guiana Cormorants ” and Snakebirds*® rose or dived ahead 
of the launch, twenty of the former taking refuge in one small 
tree as we passed. 

Hawks were abundant and one of the most numerous was 
the Cream-headed Hawk,*! which soared low over the sa- 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 355 


vanna or perched on the shrubs along the bank. Small birds 
showed no fear of it, often alighting in the same tree. From 
almost every bush along the river bank little Guiana Green 
Herons * flew up from their nests, built close to the surface 
of the water. These herons “froze” like Bitterns when 
they alighted, standing motionless with the bills at an angle 
of 45°. Along the railroad they were semi-domesticated, 
flying fearlessly in and out of the coolie yards, and snatching 
bits of food from the very door-ways of the huts. 

About eleven o’clock, on rounding a sharp turn in the 
river, we saw what appeared to be great expanses of burnt 
marsh. On and on we went and at last we realized that we 
were looking at vast phalanxes of Ducks. Suddenly, with- 
out warning, a living sheet of birds rolled up from the ground, 
hung a moment, then gained momentum and wheeled upward. 
Thousands began to rise at once, until for fifty or a hun- 
dred yards on each side of the river, there was an almost 
unbroken wave of birds, flying upward and_ backward. 
From this mass of life, giving forth a medley of shrill whistles 
which soon deepened into a perfect roar of wings, single lines 
of ducks detached themselves, shooting out in all directions, 
passing up and across the river, or right and left out over the 
savanna. They were Gray-necked Tree-ducks ® with a plen- 
tiful scattering of the Rufous“ and a very few White-faced.” 
The great curving wave never ceased for a moment as we 
approached, but widened and thickened and wheeled over 
and behind us until the sky was pitted with their bodies. 
I took picture after picture with my Graflex, the ground 
glass reflecting a myriad of swiftly moving forms. 

Then the Ducks which had first arisen, having flown in a 
great circle over the savanna, returned, and intersecting the 
newly arisen host, formed a criscrossing maze which carpeted 
the heavens with a close warp and woof of living birds. Even 
in Mexico, where we had watched the vast flocks of Ducks 


356 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


FIG. 145. GRAY-NECKED TREE-DUCKS RISING FROM THE SAVANNA. 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 357 


and Geese on Lake Chapala, there was nothing to equal 
this. The Ducks looked dark against the sunlight but 
whenever they veered, the white wing-bands flashed lke 
mirrors. 

We counted the birds in one short line near us and found 
there were four hundred and twenty individuals. No one 
could count those in even one of the flocks but there must 
have been at least twenty thousand in the first phalanx we 
encountered. 

As we passed on, many hundreds settled again on their 
feeding grounds, where nothing was visible of them save a 
myriad heads and necks, stretched high and watching us 
curiously. As many others however flew far away, the dense 
matted flocks fraying out into long single or double lines, 
some of which must have been a half mile in length. 

In this region these birds are Tree-ducks only in name, as 
later in the year hundreds of eggs will be found scattered over 
the savanna, and sooner or later the flocks will dissolve into 
pairs, each to nest on some low hummock in the marsh. 

These Ducks never settle on the open water of the river 
on account of the many dangers swimming beneath, of which 
more anon. ‘They sleep and feed and nest among the thick 
growth of reeds and grass of the savanna itself. 

After passing the second main body of Tree-ducks we 
now and then heard a louder whistle of wings, and a 
family flock of four or five great black Muscovy Ducks ® 
would rush past; the leader, the drake, being almost twice 
the size of the members of his harum. 

Small birds were not much in evidence from the launch, 
although Anis * were abundant, fluttering awkwardly among 
the bushes, and the big Kiskadees™ were nesting about every 
hundred yards. ‘This was the first time in the Colony that we 
had seen these latter birds nesting away from human habita- 
tions, so this open savanna region would appear to be their 


358 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


natural home, while the other yellow Tyrants frequent 
wooded river banks. 

At one o'clock we came in sight of a barn-like shelter in 
which was housed a huge steam traction plough, and radiat- 
ing out across the savanna were the lines of dykes which 
marked the great fields intended for rice planting. 


Fic. 146. Our BUNGALOW ON ABARY ISLAND. 


A few minutes more of steaming brought us to a landing 
place on a small island, with the bungalow in the centre. 
This islet and in fact this whole region has an interesting 
history. All this savanna was once a densely wooded jungle 
of mora trees, eta palms and other growth. In 1837 a drought 
occurred of such extent that all the vegetation —trees, palms 
and underbrush —became dry as chips. The inevitable fol- 
lowed and a fire started in some way which swept this whole 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 359 


region, reaching in places even to the Demerara. Then floods 
came, broke through the loosened barrier of tangled roots, and 
infiltrated through the soil. Grass and reeds took the place 
of the great moras, and now, almost to the horizon, stretches 
the flat, open expanse of marsh. Indeed it is only to the west 
that trees are visible, where two miles away “eta bush” 
begins. In the tops of these palms the black Muscovy 
Ducks make their homes, feeding out on the marsh and bring- 
ing down their young —so it is reported — in their beaks. 

Sixty years ago or thereabouts, many runaway slaves fled 
into the interior, most of them hiding in the recesses of the 
“bush” or high woods. These lived either with the Indians, 
in many cases intermarrying with them, or founded settlements 
by themselves. Some of these unfortunate blacks, however, 
made their way up the Abary and when they had come thus far 
—eighteen miles —finding no habitable land they set to work 
to make an island. 

In the midst of this then (as practically now) unexplored 
region, these desperate men toiled at the black muck of the 
river edge, scooped it up and packed it on the foundation 
of reeds until a more or less dry island of about five acres had 
been formed. Here to-day we found a low mound of rich 
black mould, with nine good-sized isolated trees, several 
cocoanut palms and a few bananas. Corn planted here 
grows with wonderful rapidity. 

The long occupancy and numerous inhabitants of the 
islet is attested by the thousands of pieces of pottery with 
which the ground is covered. On some I found a rude 
attempt at decoration, and the shape of the rims and handles 
were much like the primitive African art of to-day. ‘There 
was probably a low hummock or mound as the nucleus for 
the island, and four or five feet beneath the surface several 
Indian stone axes have been unearthed — telling of still earlier 
human habitation — perhaps in the days of the jungle. 


360 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Here we had planned to spend a week, but were prevented 
by an accident from remaining more than three days, but 
even in the short space of thirty-six hours of daylight we 
learned much of the life on and about this islet. 

Our two other trips had been to tiny islands of cleared 
ground in the midst of a sea of the densest jungle; here we 
were marooned in the shade of a little isolated group of trees 
on a diminutive hillock of earth, bounded in all directions by 
an impenetrable marsh. If one so much as took a single 
step from the island, it was into three feet or more of water 
and tangled reeds, too dense to push a boat through. Dur- 
ing the rainy season boats can be poled through, and at the 
dry season firmer footing is possible, but our visit was at a 
time betwixt and between. Ihave made a small rough plan 
of our domain on the Abary, Fig. 147. 

The river was at this point only about seventy-five feet 
in width, flowing almost due south. As we ascended it, a 
narrow inlet became visible in the right bank, which led into 
a good-sized lagoon about as wide as the river, which had 
probably been formed by the excavation of the marsh. ‘This 
lagoon bounded the north and part of the east sides of the 
island. The prevailing wind was from the east and this 
probably accounted for the line of small trees and bushes 
being almost altogether on the western bank. 

We were welcomed at the bungalow by Mr. Harry, the 
young American engineer in charge, who, without the ornate 
phrases of Spanish hospitality, but in the simple American 
manner, put the bungalow and everything at the plantation 
at our disposal. 

Nothing more different from what we encountered in the 
bush can be imagined. There, no sunlight save what sifts 
down through the tall trees; here, a blaze of light from 
horizon to horizon: there, hosts of living creatures, but as a 
rule single individuals of a species or in pairs; here, unnum- 


361 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 


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bered hosts in flocks of many thousands of the same species. 
It was a wonderland guarded by stern guardians; teeming 
with life on land, in the air and in the water. Not a moment 
of the day, or for that matter, of the night was free from sight 
or sound of some of these interesting creatures. 


Fic. 148. ABARY RIVER, SHOWING HIGH GROWTH ON WEST BANK. 


First as to the guardians. The sun we found to be a most 
terrible menace on the quiet open waters, and an exposure 
of an hour would have resulted in most painful blisters, and 
these in the tropics are of more serious moment than in the 
north. With broad-brimmed hats, however, there was no 
danger. 

The day, even out on the marsh itself, was comparatively 
free from insects, but at 5.30 a few mosquitoes appear. By 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 


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364 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


6 o’clock one would call them numerous, and between 6.30 
and 7.30 they are legion and ferocious. One cannot sit 
still unprotected for a moment at a time. After 7.30 they 
all disappear, especially when there is a light wind, but at 
nine o’clock they are present in full numbers again. We 
slept the first night, or rather lay down, on cots with nets. 
The mosquitoes, or most of them, could apparently easily 
make their way through the mesh, but when swollen with 
blood failed to escape again. We slept but little, kept awake 
by the biting and humming of the wretches. 

From daybreak when we arose until about nine o’clock 
sand flies held high revel, biting severely, after which all the 
insect pests vanished and one could decide to postpone 
suicide until the coming night! After this however we 
used close cloth nets, which defeated the efforts of the 
mosquitoes. 

We found so much to interest us on and in the immediate 
vicinity of the islet that we made no extended trips either up 
or down the river. In the three days we lived there we 
observed the following fifty species of birds, nineteen of 
which (marked with asterisks) were nesting on the islet or 
within a few yards of it: 

Red-underwing Dove (Leptoptila rufaxilla). 
* Hoatzin (Opisthocomus hoazin). 

* Wood Rail (Aramides cayana). 

Purple Gallinule (Jonornis martinica). 
Great-billed Tern (Phaethusa magnirostris). 
Eye-browed Tern (Sterna superciliaris). 

* Jacana (Jacana jacana). 

Wood Ibis (Tantalus loculator). 

Jabiru (Mycteria americana). 

Cocoi Heron (Ardea cocoi). 

American Egret (Herodias egretta). 

* Guiana-Green Heron (Butorides striata) 
Horned Screamer (Palamedea cornuta). 
Muscovy Duck (Catrina moschata). 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. — 365 


Rufous Tree-duck (Dendrocygna fulva). 

Gray-necked Tree-duck (Dendrocygna discolor). 

Guiana Cormorant (Phalacrocorax vigua). 

Snakebird (Plotus anhinga). 

Black Vulture (Catharista urubu). 
Yellow-headed Vulture (Cathartes urubitinga). 

Caracara (Polyborus cheriway). 

South American Blue Hawk (Geranos pizias caerulescens). 
* South American Black Hawk (Urubitinga urubitinga). 
* Rufous Kingfisher (Ceryle torquata). 

Parauque (lV yctidromus albicollis). 

Goatsucker (sp ?). 

Green Hummingbird (sp ?). 

Little Rufous Cuckoo (Piaya rutila). 

Smooth-billed Ani (Crotophaga ani). 

* Cinnamon Spine-tail (Synallaxis cinnamomea). 

* Pied Ground Flycatcher (Fluvicola pica). 

* White-headed Flycatcher (Arundicola leucocephala). 

* Cinereus Tody-flycatcher (Todirostrum cinereum). 

* Guiana Kiskadee Tyrant (Pitangus sulphuratus). 

* Lesser Kiskadee Tyrant (Pitangus lictor). 

* Large-billed Kiskadee Tyrant (Megarhynchus pitangua). 
* White-throated Kingbird (Tyrannus melancholicus). 
Tree Swallow (Tachycineta bicolor). 

Variegated Swallow (Tachycineta albiventris). 

Barn Swallow (Hirundo erythrogaster). 

* Gray-breasted Martin (Progne chalybea). 

Red-breasted Swallow (Stelgidopteryx ruficollis). 

* Guiana House Wren (Troglodytes musculus clarus). 

* Black-capped Mocking-thrush (Donacobius atricapillus). 
* Pygmy Seedeater (Sporophila minuta). 

Little Yellow-headed Blackbird (Agelaius icterocephalus). 
Red-breasted Blackbird (Leistes militaris). 

Meadow Lark (Sturnella magna meridionalis). 

* Yellow Oriole (Icterus xanthornus). 

Little Boat-tailed (Guiana) Grackle (Quiscalus lugubris). 


The most interesting of all were the Hoatzins,"’ whose 
raucous squawks brought vividly to our minds the mangrove 
swamps of Venezuela where we had studied them last year. 


366 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


As I have said the east bank of the river is for the most 
part clear of growth, save for the reeds and grasses of the 
savanna. Along the western bank is a dense shrubby or 
bushy line of vegetation; occasionally rising to a height of 
twenty or thirty feet or again appearing only two or three 
yards above the reeds beyond. ‘The brush grows altogether 


Fic. 150. NEST OF A HOATZIN IN THE MUCKA-MUCKA ON WHICH THESE 
BIRDS FEED. 


in the water and consists chiefly of a species of tall Arum, 
or mucka-mucka, as the natives call it, frequently bound 
together by a tangle of delicate vines. Here and there is a 
low, light-barked tree-like growth. This narrow ribbon of 
aquatic growth was the home of the Hoatzins, and from one 
year’s end to another they may be found along the same 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 367 


reaches of the river. In general, their habits did not differ 
from those of the birds which we observed in Venezuela. 
Throughout the heat of midday no sight or sound revealed 
the presence of the birds, but as the afternoon wore on a 
single raucous squawk would be heard in the distance, and 
we knew the Hoatzins were astir. 


Directly in front, between the bungalow and the river, as 
may be seen from my diagram (Fig. 147), the brush had been 
cut away on either hand for a distance of about sixty yards. 
Every evening from 4.30 to 5.30 P.M., the Hoatzins gathered 
on the extreme northern end of this wide break in their line 
of thickets, until sometimes twenty-five or thirty birds were 
in sight at once. Some would fly down to the low branches 


368 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


and begin to tear off pieces of the young tender shoots of the 
mucka-mucka. With much noise and flapping of wings, 
several made their way to a single bare branch which pro- 
jected out over the cleared marsh. The first bird would 
make many false starts, crouching and then losing heart, 
but the next on the branch, getting impatient, at last nudged 
him a bit, and at last he launched out into the air. With 
rather slow wing beats, but working apparently with all his 
power, he spanned the wide extent of cleared brush, then the 
ten feet of water, then fifteen yards more of stumps, and with 
a final effort he clutched a branch — and his goal was reached! 
After several minutes of breathlessness he continued on his 
way out of sight into the depth of the brush. The second 
Hoatzin would then essay the feat, but fail igznominiously and 
fall midway, coming down all of a heap among the stumps. 
Here a rest was taken, and for five or ten minutes the bird 
would feed quietly. ‘Then a second flight carried it back to 
the starting point or to the end of the open space. 

Sometimes when the birds alighted and clutched a twig, 
they would be so exhausted that they toppled over and hung 
upside down for a moment. 

Watching the Hoatzins carefully with stereos for several 
evenings in succession we came to know and distinguish 
individual birds. ‘Two, one of which had a broken feather in 
the right wing, and the other a two-inch short central tail 
feather, were excellent flyers and, taking their leaping start 
from the high branch, never failed to make their goal, going 
the whole distance and alighting easily. All of the others 
had to rest and one which was moulting a feather in each 
wing could achieve only about ten yards. This one fell one 
evening into the water at the second relay flight, and half 
flopped, half swam ashore. 

One evening a Hoatzin flew toward us and alighted near 
some hens on the ground, but took wing almost instantly 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 369. 


back to his brush-wood. A day or two before we came one 
of the birds had used a beam of the porch as a perch. 

This general movement occurred at both sunrise and sun- 
set and was always as thorough and noisy as we found it the 
first evening of our stay. For months, we were told, it had 
been kept up as regularly as clockwork. 


Fic. 152. (A) FEMALE HOATZIN FLUSHED FROM HER NEST; THE MALE 
BIRD APPROACHING. 


In the morning as the sun grew hotter the birds became 
quiet and finally disappeared, not to be heard or seen again 
until afternoon. They spend the heat of the day sitting on 
their nests or perched on branches in the cooler, deeper 
recesses of their linear jungle. 

The last view of them in the morning, as the heat became 
intense, or late in the evening, usually revealed them squatted 


370 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


on the branches in pairs close together. On moonlight 
nights however they were active and noisy, and came into 
the open to feed. The habit of crouching or settling down on 
the perch is very common with the Hoatzins, and it may 
be due to the weakness of the feet and toes. I am inclined 


Fic. 153. (B) FEMALE HOATZIN IN THE SAME POSITION, THE MALE HAV- 
ING FLOWN NEARER. 


however to consider it in connection with the general awk- 
wardness in alighting and climbing, as a hint of the unadapta- 
bility of the large feet to the small size of the twigs and 
branches among which they live. Jnexplicable though it may 
appear, the Hoatzin — although evidently unchanged in many 
respects through long epochs — yet is far from being per- 
fectly adapted to its present environment. It has a severe 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 371 


struggle for existence, and the least increase of any foe or 
obstacle would result in its extinction. 

At the time of our arrival the Hoatzins had just begun to 
nest. They were utilizing old nests which, although so 
apparently flimsy in construction, yet were remarkably cohe- 
sive. The nests are almost indistinguishable from those of 
the “Chows”’ or Guiana Green Herons which were built in 
the same situations. The latter were usually low over the 
water, while the Hoatzins’ were higher, from five to twelve 
feet above the surface of the marsh. -The twigs were longer 
and more tightly interlaced in the Hoatzin’s nest, ‘and while 
the nests of the Heron crumbled when lifted from the crotch, 
the others remained intact. The Hoatzins. placed — their 
nests in crotches of the tree-like growths, ‘or more rarely 
supported by several branched mucka-mucka stems. Both 
sexes aided in the building as we observed two birds collect- 
ing and weaving the twigs. Three sets of eggs which came 
under our observation numbered. respectively 2, 3, and 4. 
From what information I could gather, two seems to be the 
usual number. 

The eggs are»Tather variable in shape. One which I 
have, from the Orinoco, is elliptical, while my Abary, speci- 
mens are oval. The ground color is creamy white. The en- 
tire surface is marked with small irregularly shaped dots and 
spots of reddish brown, inclining to be more abundant at 
the large end. The brown pigment deposited early in the 
oviduct is covered by a thin layer of lime and thereby given 
a lavender hue. ‘The size averages 1.8 by 1.3 inches. 

Hoatzins seem to be very free from enemies, although 
from year to year their numbers remain about the same. 
The waters beneath them are inhabited by numbers of otters, 
crocodiles, anacondas and voracious fish, so that death lies 
that way. They seem also to fear some predatory bird, for 
whenever a harmless Caracara Hawk * skimmed low over 


372 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


the branches on the lookout for lizards, the Hoatzins always 
tumbled pell mell into the shelter of the thick foliage below. 
We found that the best time to approach and photograph 
the birds was during their siesta. As we paddled along the 
bank they scrambled from their perches or nests up to the 
bare branches overhead, calling hoarsely to one another. 


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Fic. 154. (C) MALE HOATZIN ALARMED AND ABOUT TO TAKE FLIGHT. 


Pushing aside the dense growth of Arums and vines, we 
worked our canoe as far as possible into the heart of the 
bush, to the foot of some good-sized tree perhaps a foot in di- 
ameter. Stepping from the boat to the lowest limb, Milady 
would hand me the big Graflex with the unwieldy but 
necessary 27-inch lens, and I began my painful ascent. 
At first all was easy going, but as I ascended I broke off 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 375 


numerous dead twigs and from the broken stub of each 
issued a horde of black stinging ants. ‘These hastened my 
ascent and at last I made my way out on the swaying upper 
branches. (Fig. 151.) From here I had a fairly clear view 
of the surrounding bush and if I worked rapidly I could 
secure three or four pictures before the Hoatzins took flight 
and hid amid the foliage. 


Fic. 155. (D) FEMALE HOATZIN CROUCHING TO AVOID OBSERVATION. 


Of all my pictures that of Fig. 157 is the prize. We 
came upon a flock of Hoatzins late in the afternoon and were 
fortunate enough to get into a clear space and to photograph 
eleven on the same plate; the confused mass near the centre 
of the picture containing four individuals. Fig. 148 shows 
the character of the country where we found the Hoatzins on 


374 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Abary River, with the line of dense growth on one side and 
the level savanna on the other. 

A study of an individual pair of birds is given in Figs. 152 
to 156, and the actions of these two birds were so typical of 
Hoatzins that an account of them will apply to the species in 
general. I made these photographs from a boat, standing 
on the thwarts while Milady guided it through the brush. 

We flushed the female from her nest (marked by a circle 
in Fig. 150) and she flew to a branch some eight feet higher 
(Fig. 152). The male then appeared from a tree beyond 
(centre of Fig. 152). We remained perfectly quiet, and the 
next photograph shows her tail-on, looking about, while the 
male, who has flown nearer, is watching us suspiciously. 
Fig. 154 shows the male on another perch, still more alarmed, 
and a moment later he thrashed his way out of sight. 
Meanwhile the female had rediscovered us and crouched 
down (Fig. 155) hoping to avoid observation, but as we 
pushed closer to the nest, she rose on her perch, spread tail 
and wings to the widest (Fig. 156), her scarlet eyes flashing, 
and uttering a last despairing hiss, launched out for a few 
yards. At this moment, as may be seen in the same pic- 
ture, a second pair of birds left their nest in the next clump 
of undergrowth and raised their discordant notes in protest 
at our intrusion. 

The assertion which we made last year — Milady having 
been the first to observe it — that Hoatzins use their prima- 
ries as fingers, in the same way that the chicks and partly 
grown young use their wing claws, has been received with 
some doubt, and I am glad to offer a photograph (Fig. 156) 
as evidence. In the right wing of the Hoatzin, the thumb 
feathers are plainly visible, with their inner edges fretted 
away, while the first six primaries also show signs of severe 
wear, such as would be expected from the rough usage to 
which they are put. 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 375 


Attention is called to the apparent immobility of the crest, 
which is as fully erect in the crouching Hoatzin (Fig. 155) as 
in the same bird a minute or two later, alert and about to fly 
(Fig. 156). 

Thus it was that we took the first photographs ever made 
of these most interesting birds. 


Fic. 156. (FE) FEMALE HOATZIN TAKING FLIGHT, WITH WINGS FULLY 
SPREAD; A SECOND PAIR OF BIRDS LEAVING THEIR NEST, IN THE BACK- 
GROUND, 


Insects were abundant on the island and if we had taken 
time we could have made an interesting collection. Three 
species of bright Orange butterflies were numerous (Eu ptoieta 
hegesia, Colaenis phaerusa and the familiar Red Silver-wing, 
A graulis vanillae, of our northern fields), and with these were 
also a White (Pieris monuste) and a Yellow(Callidryas statira). 


376 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


The three commonest dragon-flies were Diastatops tincta, 
Erythrodiplax umbrata and E. peruviana. 

There were two pairs of Black-capped Mocking-thrushes ” 
on the island and they afforded us much amusement. They 
are true cousins of the Catbird and Mockingbird, and from 
their actions would almost seem to have a strain of Chat blood! 
A pair lived in each of the brush clumps a and 6 (Fig. 147) and 
hour after hour would sit calling and answering each other. 
One pair (the two birds sitting close to each other) would 
shout in unison powie! powie! powie! rapidly a dozen times 
in succession. ‘The other pair responded week! week! week! 
week! as often and as rapidly. At each enunciation the 
half-spread tails of the respective pair of birds wagged vio- 
lently from side to side, exactly as if pulled with a string. 
As the utterances of each of the two birds were synchron- 
ous, the wagging was always in perfect time, but sometimes 
the “‘strings’’ got crossed with this effect (a); or this (b); 


yy 
Cay, 


but almost every time the movement was in unison thus 
(c); or thus (d). These active, interesting birds have in 
addition an elaborate song, uttered singly, which these 
individuals were practising but which we had heard fully 
developed at La Brea in Venezuela. 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 


FLOCK OF ELEVEN HOATZINS. 


FIG. 157. 


378 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Purple Gallinules* and Cayenne Wood Rails” were 
seen every day but were not abundant. A pair of the latter 
were nesting near the island and well merited their native 
name of Killicow, screaming a confused chorus of syllables 
resembling these for five minutes at a stretch every morning. 

Among the smaller marsh birds, Jacanas* easily held 
first place, both in numbers and in action and voice, day 
and night. About every half hour through the day a group 
of these birds would set up a wild and frantic clacking, 
sounding as if a dozen hens were being pursued and had 
about given up all hope of escape. ‘This was usually caused 
by the appearance of a crocodile, large or small, from beneath 
the lily pads. All the Jacanas within sight would gather at 
once and dance excitedly about on the surrounding pads 
until the pestered reptile sank again into the muddy waters. 
Several times we saw trios of these birds in play or combat, 
each holding the wings spread low and in front, ready to 
strike with the sharp spurs or to protect their own body by 
the buttress of feathers. They are very graceful in all their 
motions, holding the wings straight upward for a few seconds 
after alighting. 

This being practically a treeless region, the birds were of 
necessity either terrestrial, aquatic or aérial, and the latter 
formed a not inconsiderable percentage. Terns were one 
of the most picturesque features of the savanna, flying over 
and around the island in small flocks, the large Great-billed 
fellows “ with black caps and wings, and the tiny Eye- 
browed species reminding one of our Least Tern. Both 
beat back and forth, or hung fluttering over the lagoon, 
and now and then dropped plummet-like after a small 
fish. 

The Swallows were legion—six species in all, forever swoop- 
ing over the marsh or snatching sips of river water as they 
flew. The Variegated ** were the most beautiful, and we 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 379 


welcomed as old friends Barn™! and Tree Swallows,}”° 
whose twittering forms brought our northern autumn 
marshes vividly to mind. Many Flycatchers and Seed- 
eaters were nesting close by, while the beautiful Orioles » 
clung to their pendent nests over the water, and a House 
Wren ™ divided his time between inspecting his brood in a 
hollow stub at the foot of the bungalow steps, and sing- 
ing his heart out, from the roof. The little “ Rooties” or 
Cinnamon Spine-tails °* —absurdly Wren-like but in reality 
Woodhewers which have deserted tree-trunks for reeds — 
showed us their homes, concealed in great untidy balls of 
twigs. As they flit here and there through the bushes and. 
grasses, they let off a sound like a miniature rattle. 

The mornings and evenings, here as elsewhere in the 
tropics, are the periods of greatest activity among birds and 
other creatures. In the afternoon, before the Hoatzins 
began to gather, great tarpon would play in the river, the 
shower of drops scattered by their leaps sparkling like silver 
in the slanting rays of the sun. The few in the lagoon are 
of small size, but tarpon in the Abary reach a weight of 
185 pounds. A swirling in the shallows near the landing shows 
where an anaconda (Eunectes murinus) is stirring after his 
day’s rest. His mate, ten feet long, has just been shot after 
having helped herself to the bungalow chickens — one each 
night for a week, and serpent number two (whose size our 
Arrawak Indian squaw cook places at a fabulous thirty feet 
or more!) must soon pay the same penalty unless he changes 
his diet. 

Toward dusk all the Swallows of the world — or so it 
appears — fly past in loose bands or singly, northward 
toward the eta bush to roost, hundreds and thousands of 
them — Red-breasted,’” Banded,’ Barn,” Variegated ‘” and 
Tree ”° Swallows with scores of the Gray-breasted Mar- 
tins.“ Then the fishers of the savanna appear, look- 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS 


80 


(ueysurg <q ojoyg) 


‘ANVG YIARY NVOIWANY HINOS V NO saTIadoI0ND ‘gSI ‘OI 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 381 


ing whiter and more ghostly than ever, against the dark 
clouds; flock after flock flapping silently over: a score of 
Egrets * in an irregular line, then a dozen more smaller 
troops; Wood Ibises* higher up and beating heavily, then 
— and our pulses quicken — a half dozen great Jabirus *° — 
slowly throbbing toward the sunset. ‘The Ducks prefer the 
river, and above the fluid tide a living river of birds sets up- 
stream, hosts passing until long after dark. We paddle in 
the early dusk to mid-stream and the whistling stream of 
Ducks curves gracefully upward, descending again when 
beyond us. As we go up or down river, we find the bend 
always overhead; when we leave the river, the host resumes 
its horizontal flow again. Faintly from behind the house, 
from the edge of the distant eta bush itself, comes in the 
evenings a low sound, gaining in volume until the syllables 
may be framed to human speech — Mo-hodo-ca! Mo-héo-ca! 
and we are listening to the evening call of the Horned 
Screamer,** a bird known to us only from books. 

The night sounds from the lagoon are full of mystery. 
Sea-cows souse and roll in the river and apparently at the 
very landing. Otters play and cough and utter gasping 
sighs which make one’s flesh creep until we learn what they 
are. The legend of the Warracabra Tigers, which Water- 
ton and all after him recount, may well have had its origin 
in these great river mammals, who are noisy, fearless and 
sometimes reach a length of six feet. A beautiful skin which 
I brought home measures five and a half feet from nose to , 
tip of tail. Water-haas, or capybaras, probably add their 
share to the confusion, but the major part of the medley is 
due to crocodiles, who wait until night before beginning 
their active, noisy business of life, which, be it concerned 
with food, mate or play, requires a vast deal of splashing 
and bellowing. This latter is a deep abrupt roaring like 
the final roars of a lion’s cadence. An eight-foot croco- 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


382 


‘UHAIQ GNV GNVIS] AUVEY NAAMLIAG NOOOVT 


‘OST 


“OI 


A 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 383 


dile was shot in the lagoon a few days before, or rather shot 
at, as the beast seemed to be none the worse. 

Small wonder that, when we consider snakes, crocodiles, 
otters and voracious fishes, that the gentle Vicissi Ducks 
prefer the safer vegetation of the marsh itself! The real 
birds of night were few — but with voices weird and awe- 
some, in perfect harmony with this unpeopled waste. A 
pair of Parauque-like beings who in uttering liquid accents 
reiterated their names, mingled with the ever tragic toned 
questioning of another Goatsucker, pleading with us to end 
his agonized uncertainty — Who-are-you ? Whd-are-youi ? 

Early on the morning of our last day, April 15th, I awoke 
and peered out through the dimness of my muslin hammock 
net to catch the first hint of dawn. The east soon became 
lighter and the warp and woof of the cloth softened and dis- 
guised the scene which stretched before me from the edge 
of the veranda. As I lay there half awake, I seemed to see 
great towering moras, with their masses of dependent para- 
sites, stretching high into the air. This passed, and the 
savanna became more distinct — the whistle of Ducks’ 
wings overhead was almost incessant, with now and then the 
note of a Hoatzin. Dull thuds indicating some one at labor 
behind the bungalow and the sound of low negro voices 
added to the imagery and I seemed to be with the black men 
three score years before, laboring at their island, fighting dis- 
ease and starvation —harassed by heat, insects and reptiles; 
ever on the watch for their pursuing masters while the orange 
headed Vultures soared overhead, waiting for their turn 
which sooner or later would come. 

A bit of comedy broke in upon my dream — the voices of 
the negroes from their hammocks at the other end of the porch ° 
became audible for a moment. 

“Wont you tak’ a drink of sompfin to interact de cold ?”’ 

“No tanks, ah doesn’t stimulate.”’ 


384 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Parting my hammock net, J found my vision of jungle 
growth had been prompted by a great bank of black cloud, 
out of which the sun leaped at that instant and lighted up 
the beautiful green and blue of savanna and river. Little 
Green Herons* were fishing at the water’s edge and a 
Jacana ** was leading her brood of three small chicks within 


wy 
L 


Fa 
wryly, , 


Fic. 160. YOUNG SPUR-WINGED JACANA. 


a few feet of my hammock, down to a causeway of trem- 
bling lily pads. ‘The youngsters were very tiny, clad in gray 
with a large black mark on the nape. Even in comparison 
with their mother their toes were of enormous length. 
They kept at her very heels and when she stopped for a 
moment crept beneath her wings. But at this concentration 
of weight the water would begin to trickle over the rim of 
the fragile pads and the mother would hurry on, flashing out 
the yellow of her wings every few steps, perhaps as a signal 
to her brood. 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 385 


Why every chick is not snapped up by hungry crocodiles or 
other aquatic ogres is a mystery. Every morning this and 
several other bands, all of three, would thread their way 
across the lagoon to the reeds beyond. 

After breakfast about 8 o’clock, while I was reconnoitering 
for the best place to begin trapping the Hoatzins, as we 
wished to take some home alive, tragedy came, sudden and 
unexpected. A single pitiful cry brought me back to the 
house in an instant, and there was Milady, who but a 
moment before had been happily planning with Crandall 
about preparations for trapping, lying with a broken wrist. 
A hammock in which she had seated herself for an instant 
had come untied and given way and it was a miracle that 
the seven foot drop backward to the ground had resulted 
in only one broken bone. Game little lady, her first words 
were, “Oh! we can’t get the Hoatzins”! 

The remainder of that 15th of April will ever be a misty 
dream in my mind. We bandied no words as to the value 
of Hoatzins in particular, or the whole world of science in 
general, versus Milady’s hurt, but without confusion quickly 
organized our plan of action. I had the best corps of helpers 
one could want; Mr. and Mrs. Vinton, Crandall and Harry. 
One of us constantly dropped cold water on the injury, 
another threw together all our belongings; others worked 
like Trojans to assemble the launch engines, which had been 
taken apart for cleaning. In two hours we were on the 
throbbing little boat, passing the Hoatzins and hosts of 
Ducks with unseeing eyes. 

Then two hours later at the railroad bridge came a quick 
run to the nearest telegraph office, where a sympathetic, 
300 pound negro ‘‘mammy”’ presided over the instrument 
and wept copiously for the “po’ lil’ lady,’’ while she clicked 
out an urgent message for a special train. She said “Ah am 
too sorry for to heah dat bad news,” and when our proces- 


386 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


sion drew up at her little house to wait for the train she called 
out to Milady the comforting information that ‘‘ In der midst 
of life we are in death!” This greatly amused the sufferer, 
and we settled ourselves for the long wait. As long as one 
has something to do, any helpful work, to keep one’s hands 
or mind busy, it is an easy matter to control one’s feelings 
in a critical emergency. But when one must wait quietly 
for hours, the long period of inaction is maddening. We 
tramped up and down the track, telephoning every few 
minutes to locate the progress of the special along the line. 
Then Crandall spied a big yellow-tailed snake (Her petodryas 
carinatus) crossing the track. Here was an excuse for work- 
ing off surplus steam, and we both made a dash for it. Cran- 
dall caught it by the tail as it was disappearing into the brush 
and we had an exciting ten minutes getting it unharmed into a 
snake bag, the active creature succeeding in biting us twice 
before we muffled it. Visitors to the Reptile House of our 
Zoological Park little imagine, when gazing at this handsome 
creature, what a relief to our tense nerves its capture meant. 

At last the special came in sight and we set out on the 
wildest of rides to Georgetown. Having seen Milady in a 
doze on a sofa in the train, Crandall and I climbed up to the 
railed-in roof of the car and, with the wind beating down 
our very eyelids, watched the narrow escapes of dogs, cows, 
donkeys and coolies, from the track at the approach of this 
unlooked for train. The yellow and scarlet Blackbirds 
blew up like chaff on either hand. Egrets, Ibises and Jabirus 
watched in amazement from afar, or flew hurriedly off at the 
long drawn-out siren whistle, which hardly ceased across the 
whole country. 

We met the single afternoon train, side-tracked to let us 
pass, and then had an open road to Georgetown. Slowing 
down, we passed through the station, on through the streets, 
to within a half block of Mr. Vinton’s house. 


THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 387 


Here good Dr. Law took charge and, ten hours after the 
accident, fitted the shattered bone so skilfully that hardly a 
trace remains of the bad colleus fracture. The patient had 
no temperature at the time of the operation, the only ill 
effect being a short, sharp attack of malaria. I cite all these 
details chiefly to show the falsity of most of the universal 
slanders on a tropical climate. 

Nine days afterward on April 24th, we sailed from George- 
town, homesick with desire to remain longer in this wonder- 
land. The three short expeditions we had made, served only 
to whet our eagerness to search deeper beneath the surface, 
and glean some of the more fundamental secrets which 
Nature still hides from us. But we had fulfilled the bush- 
proverb; we had “‘eaten of labba meat and drunk of river 
water” and we know in our hearts that some day we shall 
return. 

Meanwhile the thought of that vast continent, as yet 
almost untouched by real scientific research; the supreme 
joy of learning, of discovering, of adding our tiny facts to the 
foundation of the everlasting why of the universe; all this 
makes life for us — Milady and me — one never-ending 


delight. 


ete oe 


Il. 


12. 
iF 


14. 
15. 
16. 
17. 


18. 
19. 
20. 
2i. 
22. 


23. 


APPENDIX A. 


CLASSIFIED LIST OF BIRDS MENTIONED IN THIS VOLUME. 


TINAMIFORMES. 
Great Blue Tinamou — 77namus tao Temm. 
Guiana Crested Tinamou — Tinamus subcristatus (Cab.). 
Little Tinamou — Crypturus variegatus (Gmel.). 


GALLIFORMES. 
Crested Curassow — Crax alector Linn. 
Jacupeba Guan — Penelope jacupeba Spix. 
Marail Guan — Penelope marail (Gmel.). 
Red-tailed Chachalaca — Ortalis ruficauda Jard. 
Guiana Quail — Odontophorus guianensis (Gmel.). 


COLUMBIFORMES. 


Red-winged Ground Dove — Columbigallina rufipennis (Bonap.). 


Red-underwing Dove — Leptoptila rufaxilla (Rich.). 


OPISTHOCOMIFORMES. 
Hoatzin — Opisthocomus hoazin (Miill.). 


RALLIFORMES. 


Cayenne Wood Rail — Aramides cayanea (Miill.). 
Purple Gallinule — Jonornis martinica (Linn ). 


LARIFORMES. 


Great-billed Tern — Phaéthusa magnirostris (Licht.). 
Eye-browed Tern — Sierna superciliaris Vieill. 

Laughing Gull — Larus atricilla Linn. 

Black-tailed Skimmer — Rhynchops nigra cinerascens Spix. 


CHARADRIIFORMES. 


Semipalmated Plover — Aegialeus semipalmatus (Bonap.). 
South American Collared Plover — Aegialitis collaris (Vieill.). 
Hudsonian Curlew — Numenius hudsonicus Lath. 
Solitary Sandpiper — Helodromas solitarius (Wils.). 
Spotted Sandpiper — Tringoides macularia (Linn.). 
Spur-winged Jacana — Jacana jacana (Linn.). 

389 


33° OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


GRUIFORMES. 


24. Sun-bittern — Eurypyga helias (Pall,). 
25. Common Trumpeter — Psophia crepitans Linn. 


ARDEIFORMES. 


26. Green River Ibis — Phimosus infuscatus (Licht.). 

27. Scarlet Ibis — Eudocimus ruber (Linn.). 

28. Wood Ibis — Tantalus loculator Linn. 

29. Maguari Stork — Euxenura maguari (Gmel.). 

30. Jabiru — Mycteria americana Linn. 

31. Cocoi Heron — Ardea cocoi Linn. 

32. American Egret — Herodias egretta (Gmel.). 

33. Snowy Egret — Egretta candidissima (Gmel.). 

34. Little Blue Heron — Florida caerulea (Linn.). 

35. Louisiana Heron — Hydranassa tricolor ruficollis (Gosse). 
36. Yellow-crowned Night Heron — Nyctanassa violacea (Linn.). 
37. Boat-billed Heron — Canchroma cochlearia (Linn.). 

38. Guiana Green Heron — Butorides striata (Linn.). 

39. Agami Heron — A gamia agami (Gmel.). 

. 40. Amazonian Tiger Bittern — Tigrisoma lineatum (Bodd.). 


PALAMEDEIFORMES. 


41. Horned Screamer — Palamedea cornuta Linn. 


PHOENICOPTERIFORMES. 


42. American Flamingo — Phoenicopterus ruber Linn. 


ANSERIFORMES. 


43. Muscovy Duck — Catrina moschata (Linn.). 

44. Rufous Tree Duck — Dendrocygna fulva (Gmel.). 

45. Gray-necked Tree Duck — Dendrocygna discolor Scl. and Sal. 
46. White-faced Tree Duck — Dendrocygna viduata (Linn.). 


PELECANIFORMES. 
47. Guiana Cormorant — Phalacrocorax vigua (Vieill.). 
48. Snake-bird — Anhinga anhinga (Linn.). 
49. Frigate Bird — Fregata aquila (Linn.). 


CATHARTIDIFORMES 


50. King Vulture — Gypagus papa (Linn.). 
51. Black Vulture — Catharista urubu (Vieill.). 
52. Orange-headed Vulture — Cathartes urubitinga Pelz. 


53: 


APPENDIX A. 


ACCIPITRIFORMES. 


Caracara — Polyborus cheriway (Jacq.). 


391 


53a. South American Blue Hawk — Geranospizias caerulescens (Vieill.). 


54- 
55: 
56. 
57: 
58. 
59: 


60. 


Cream-headed Hawk — Busarellus nigricollis (Lath.). 


South American Black Hawk — Urubitinga urubitinga (Gmel.). 
White-headed Chimachima Hawk — Leucopternis albicollis (Lath.). 


Guiana Crested Eagle — Morphnus guiananensis (Daud.). 
Swallow-tailed Kite — Elanoides forficatus (Linn.). 
American Osprey — Pandion haliaetus carolinensis (Gmel.). 


STRIGIFORMES. 


Southern Pygmy Owl — Glaucidium brazilianum phalaenoides 


PSITTACIFORMES. 


. Blue and Yellow Macaw — Ara ararauna (Linn.). 

. Red and Blue Macaw — Ara macao (Linn.). 

. Mealy Amazon Parrot — Amazona farinosa (Bodd.). 
. Yellow-fronted Amazon Parrot — Amazona ochrocephala (Gmel.). 
. Blue-headed Parrot — Pionus menstruus (Linn.). 
. Dusky Parrot — Pionus fuscus (Miill.). 


CORACIIFORMES. 


. Great Rufous Kingfisher — Ceryle torquata (Linn.). 


Red-bellied Kingfisher — Ceryle americana (Gmel.). 


. Pygmy Kingfisher — Ceryle superciliosa (Linn.). 

. White-necked Parauque — Nyctidromus albicollis (Gmel.). 

. Feather-toed Palm Swift — Panyptila cayanensis (Gmel.). 

. Guiana Gray-rumped Swift — Chaetura spinicauda (‘Temm.). 
. Eyebrowed Hummingbird — Phaéthornis guianensis Bouc. 


Guiana Rufous-breasted Hummingbird — Phaéthornis 
(Gould). 


. Guiana Long-tailed Hummingbird — Topaza pella (Linn.). 


TROGONIFORMES. 


. Greater Yellow-bellied Trogon — Trogon viridis Linn. 


CUCULIFORMES. 


. Great Rufous Cuckoo — Piaya cayana (Linn.). 
. Little Rufous Cuckoo — Piaya rutila (Illig.). 

. Greater Ani — Crotophaga major Gmel. 

. Smooth-billed Ani — Crotophaga ani Linn. 


(Daud.). 


episco pus 


392 


Sr. 
82. 
83. 
84. 


85. 
86. 
87. 
88. 
89. 
go: 


Ql. 
92. 
93- 


94. 
95: 
96. 


97- 
98. 
99. 
TOO. 
1or. 
102. 
TO3. 
104. 


105. 
to6. 
LO7- 


108. 
TO9Q. 
IIO. 
sie 
TE; 


OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


SCANSORES. 
Red-billed Toucan — Rhamphastos erythrorhynchus Gmel. 
Sulphur and White-breasted Toucan — Rhamphastos vitellinus Licht. 
Red-breasted Toucan — Rhamphastos Sp. 
Black-banded Aracari Toucan — Pteroglossus torquatus (Gmel.). 


~~, 


PICIFORMES. 


Paradise Jacamar — Urogalba paradisea (Linn.). 

Yellow-billed Jacamar — Galbula albirostris Lath. 

Rufous-tailed Jacamar — Galbula ruficauda Cuv. 

Great Red-crested Woodpecker — Campephilus melanoleucus (Gmel.). 
Great Ivory-billed Woodpecker — Ceophloeus lineatus (Linn.). 
Yellow Woodpecker — Crocomorphus semicinnamomeus (Reichenb.). 


PASSERIFORMES. 
FORMICARIIDAE. 
White-shouldered Pygmy Antbird — Myrmotherula axillaris Viell. 
Scaly-backed Antbird — Hypocnemis poecilonota (Pucher.). 
Woodcock Antbird — Rhopoterpe torquata (Bodd.). 


DENDROCOLAPTIDAE. 


Cinnamon Spine-tail — Synallaxis cinnamomea (Gmel.). 
Whistling Woodhewer — Dendrornis susuranus susuranus (Jard.). 
Wedge-billed Woodhewer — Glyphorhynchus cuneatus (Licht.). 


TYRANNIDAE. 


White-shouldered Ground Flycatcher — Fluvicola pica (Bodd.). 
White-headed Marsh Flycatcher — Arundinicoal leucocephala (Linn.). 
Gray Tody-flycatcher — Todirostrum cinereum cinereum (Linn.). 
Yellow-breasted Elania Flycatcher — Elaenea pagana (Licht.). 
Guiana Kiskadee Tyrant — Pitangus sulphuratus sulphuratus (Linn.). 
Venezuela Kiskadee Tyrant — Pitangus sulphuratus trinitatus Hellm. 
Lesser Kiskadee — Pitangus lictor (Cab.). 
Great-billed Kiskadee Tyrant — Megarhynchus pitangua pitangua 
(Linn.). 
Streaked Flycatcher — Myiodynastes maculatus maculatus (Miill.). 
White-throated Kingbird — Tyrannus melancholicus (Vieill.). 
Buff-tailed Tyrantlet — Terenotricus erythrurus erythrurus (Cab.). 


PIPRIDAE. 


Golden-headed Manakin — Pipra erythrocephala (Linn.). 

White capped Manakin — Pipra leucocilla Linn. 

Golden crowned Pygmy Manakin — Pipra brachyura (Scl. and Sal.). 
White-breasted Manakin — Manacus manacus manacus (Linn.). 
Wallace’s Olive Manakin — Scotothorus wallacii (Scl. and Sal.). 


113. 
II4. 
II5. 
Ir6. 
227. 


118. 
119. 
120. 
I2I. 
¥22. 
123. 


124. 
125. 


126. 


X27. 
128. 


128a. 


128b. 


129. 
130. 
¥2i. 
132. 
133. 
134. 
135- 


136. 
136a. 
£27, 


APPENDIX A. 303 


COTINGIDAE. 
Black-tailed Tityra — Tityra cayana (Linn.). 
Cinereus Becard — Pachyrhamphus atricapillus (Gmel.). 
Goldbird — Lathria cinerea (Vieill.). 
Pompadour Cotinga — Xipholena pompadora (Linn.). 
Bare-headed Cotinga — Calvifrons calvus (Gmel.). 


HIRUNDINIDAE. 


Banded Swallow — Afticora fasciata (Gmel.). 

Variegated Swallow — Tachycineta albiventris (Bodd.). 
Tree Swallow — Tachycineta bicolor (Vieill.). 

Barn Swallow — Hirundo erythrogaster Bodd. 
Gray-breasted Martin — Progne chalybea chalybea (Gmel.). 
Red-breasted Swallow — Stel gidopteryx ruficollis Baird. 


TROGLODYTIDAE. 


Guiana House Wren — Troglodytes musculus clarus Berlp. and Hart. 
Necklaced Jungle Wren — Leucolepia musica (Bodd.). 


MIMIDAE. 
Black-capped Mocking-thrush — Donacobius atricapillus (Linn.). 


TURDIDAE. 
White-throated Robin — Planesticus phaeopygus (Cab.). 
White-breasted Robin — Planesticus albiventer Spix. 
VIREONIDAE. 
Brown-fronted Jungle Vireo — Pachysylvia ferrugineifrons Scl. 


MNIOTILTIDAE 


American Redstart — Setophaga ruticilla (Linn.). 


FRINGILLIDAE. 


Brown-breasted Pygmy Grosbeak — Oryzoborus torridus (Gmel.). 
Thick-billed Pygmy Grosbeak — Oryzoborus crassirostris (Gmel.). 
Blue-backed Seedeater — Sporophila castaneiventris (Cab.). 
Pygmy Seedeater — Sporophila minuta minuta (Linn.). 
Yellow-bellied Seedeater — Sporophila gutturalis (Licht. 
Black-headed Scarlet Grosbeak — Pitylus erythromelas (Gmel.). 
Black-faced Green Grosbeak — Pitylus viridis (Vieill.). 


COEREBIDAE. 


Yellow-winged Honey-creeper — Cyaner pes cyaneus (Linn.). 
Blue Honey-creeper — Cyaner pes caeruleus (Linn.). 
Venezuela Bananaquit — Coereba luteola Cab. 


394 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


TANGARIDAE. 


138. Purple-throated Euphonia — Euphonia chlorotica (Linn.). 

139. Black-tailed Euphonia — Euphonia melanura Scl. 

140. Violet Euphonia — Euphonia violacea (Linn.). 

141. Black-faced Calliste — Culospiza cayana (Linn.). 

142. Yellow-bellied Calliste — Calospiza mexicana mexicana Linn. 

143. White-shouldered Blue Tanager — Tangara episcopus episcopus Linn. 

144. Northern Palm Tanager — Tangara palmarum melanoptera Scl. 

145. Northern Silver-beak Tanager — Ramphocelus jacapa magnirostris 
(Lafr.), 

146. Southern Silver-beak Tanager — Ramphocelus jacapa japaca (Linn.). 

147- Magpie Tanager — Cissopis leveriana (Gmel.). 


ICTERIDAE. 


148. Black Parasitic Cassique — Cassidix oryzivora oryzivora (Gmel.). 
149. Great Black Cassique — Ostinops decumanus (Pall.). 

150. Green Cassique — Ostinops viridis (Miill.). 

151. Yellow-backed Cassique — Cacicus persicus (Linn.). 

152. Red-backed Cassique — Cacicus affinis Swains. 

153. Guiana Cowbird — Molothrus atronitens (Cab.). 

154. Little Yellow-headed Blackbird — A gelaius icterocephalus (Linn.). 
155. Red-breasted Blackbird — Leistes militaris (Linn.). 

156. Meadowlark — Sturnella magna (Linn.). 

157. Guiana Meadowlark — Sturnella magna meridionalis (Scl.). 

158. Moriche Oriole — Icterus chrysocephalus (Linn.). 

159. Yellow Oriole — Icterus xanthornus xanthornus (Gmel.). 

160. Little Boat-tailed Grackle — Quiscalus lugubris Swains. 


CORVIDAE. 


161. Lavender Jay — Cyanocorax cayanus (Linn.). 


APPENDEX  B. 


NATIVE GUIANAN NAMES OF BIRDS. 


Great Blue Tinamou — Maam. 
Little Tinamou — Little Maam. 
Curassow — Powis. 

Guan — Maroodi. 

Guiana Quail — Duraquara. 
Chachalaca — Hanaqua. 

Hoatzin — Canje Pheasant. 
Purple Gallinule — Coot. 

Guiana Wood Rail — Killicow. 
Spur-winged Jacana — Spur-wing. 
Skimmer — Scissor-bill. 

Sun Bittern — Sun-bird. 
Trumpeter — Warracabra. 

Scarlet Ibis — Curri-curri. 

Jabiru — Negrocop. 

Wood Ibis — Nigger Head. 

Tiger Bittern — Tiger-bird. 
Herons — Chow or Shypook. 
Cocoi Heron — Crane. 

Horned Screamer — Mohuca. 
Gray-necked Tree-duck — Vicissi. 
Snake-bird — Ducklar. 

Black Vulture — Carrion Crow. 
Orange-headed Vulture — Governor Carrion Crow. 
Caracara — Hen Hawk. 

Owls — Night Owl. 

Spectrum Parrakeet — Kissi-kissi. 
Motmot — Hutu. 

Hummingbirds — Doctor-birds. 
Four-winged Cuckoo — Wife-sick. 
Great Ani — Jumby-bird. 
Smooth-billed Ani — Old Witch. 
Toucan — Bill-bird. 

Checked Ant-thrush — Dominique or Check-bird. 
Cinnamon Spinetail — Rootie. 


395 


396 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Bell-bird — Campanero. 

Gold-bird — Greenheart-bird — Pi-pi-y6. 
Cinereus Becard — Woodpecker. 
White-shouldered Ground Flycatcher — Cotton-bird. 
Southern Scissor-tailed Flycatcher — Scissor-tail. 
Guiana Kiskadee Tyrant — Kiskadee. 
White-throated King-bird — Madeira or Gray Kiskadee. 
White-headed Marsh Flycatcher — Parson-bird. 
Cinereus Tody-flycatcher — Pipitoorie. 
Yellow-breasted Elanea Flycatcher — Muff-bird or Muffin. 
Guiana House Wren — God- or Guard-bird. 
Necklaced Jungle Wren — Quadrille Bird. 
White-throated Robin — Thrush. 

Yellow Warbler — Bastard Canary. 
Brown-breasted Pygmy Grosbeak — Toua-toua. 
Thick-billed Pygmy Grosbeak — Twa-twa. 
Blue-backed Seedeater — Blue-back. 

Pygmy Seedeater — Fire-red. 

Crown-headed Seedeater — Crown-head. 
Plain-headed Seedeater — Plain-head. 

Lineated Seedeater — Ring-neck. 

Pee-zing Grassquit — Pee-zing. 

Honey Creepers — Hummingbirds. 
Yellow-bellied Calliste — Goldfinch. 

Black-faced Calliste — Bucktown Sackie. 

Violet Euphonia — Bucktown Canary. 

Blue Tanager — Blue Sackie. 

Palm Tanager — Cocoanut Sackie. 

Silver-beak Tanager — Cashew Sackie. 
White-lined Tanager — Black-sage Sackie. 
Olive Saltator — Tom-pitcher. 

Little Boat-tail Grackle — Black-bird. 

Guiana Cowbird — Corn-bird. 

Black Parasitic Cassique — Rice-bird. 
Yellow-backed Cassique — Yellow Bunyah or Mockingbird. 
Red-backed Cassique — Red Bunyah. 
Red-breasted Blackbird — Robin Red-breast. 
Little Yellow-headed Blackbird — Yellow-head. 
Moriche Oriole — Cadoorie. 

Yellow Oriole — Yellow Plantain Bird. 

Guiana Meadowlark — Savannah Starling, 


MP ees DER. C. 


ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HOORIE ORTHOPTERA. 


Acontista perspicua 
Anaulecomara furcata 
Colpolopha obsoluta 
Creoxylus spinosus 
Enopterna surinamensis 
Gryllotalpa hexadactyla 
Moncheca nigricauda 


Posidippus degeeri 
Prisopus flabelliformis 
Pseudophasma phthisicus 
Pterochroza ocellata 
Schistocerca flavofascjiata 
Vates lobata 


NEW SPECIES OF MANTIS. 


Stagmomantis hoorie Caudell 


ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HOORIE MOTHS. 


Anacraga citrina 
Anthocroca cuneifera 
Apatelodes pandarioides 
Apela divisa 

Argeus labruscae 
Argyrostoma nitidisquama 
Attacus erycina 

Automeris cinctistriga 
Automolis semirosea 
Azelina gammaria 
Ballantiophona gibbiferata 
Baeotarcha coemaroalis 
Berberodes simplex 
Capnodes subrutilans 
Carthara ennomoides 
Chrysocestis fimbriaria 
Claphe braganza 

Claphe mediana 

Claphe morens 

Claphe namora 


Coenipeta bibitrix 
Colla gaudialis 
Dasygnia meterythra 
Desmia funeralis 
Dichromapteryx dimidiata 
Dirphia tarquinia 
Drepanodes agrionaria 
Dyasia viviana 
Eudioptis hyalinata 
Epicepsis gnoma 
Euagra collestina 
Euclea cippus 
Gonodonta pyrgo 
Gonopinea albilunalis 
Hadena regressa 
Hylesia inficita 
Hyperchiria liberia 
Hyperchiria nausica 
Ingura circularia 

Iza rufigrisea 
397 


308 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. 


Lepasta conspicua 
Letis occidua 
Leucinodes elegantalis 
Lysana plexa 
Maerodes columbalis 
Malocampa eugenia 
Melese castrena 
Neritos coccinea 
Neritos phaeoplaza 
Olceclostera mira 
Olceclostera satellitia 
Orthogramma rufotibia 
Pamea notata 

Peosina helima 
Phyllodonta cajanuma 
Prepiella radicans 
Pronola fraterna 
Prumala ilus 
Racheolopha confluaria 
Racheolopha nivetacta 


Racheolopha pallida 
Racheolopha sarptaria 
Racheospila intensa 
Rifargia apella 

Rolepa cuprea 

Rosema zelica 

Samea ebulealis 

Samea gealis 
Scolecocampa liburna 
Stericta abrupta 
Stericta multicolor 
Stictoptera clara 
Tachyphyle acuta 
Tanasphysa adornatalis 
Thysania agrippina 
Tosale velutina 

Trosea ignicornis 

Urga parallela 
Vipsophobetron marinna 


NEW SPECIES OF HOORIE MOTHS. 


Acropteryx opulenta Dyar 
Capnodes albicosta  “ 
Claphe laudissima “ 
Emarginea empyra 
Eois costalis 
Hadena niphetodes 
Hemipecten cleptes 
Hylesia indurata 
Illice biota i 


Ischnurges bicoloralis Dyar 
Macalla pallidomedia “‘ 
Neophaenis aedemon 
Paracraga amianta 
Rifargia phanerostigma “ 
Saccopleura lycealis  “ 
Thermesia dorsilinea 
Trosia nigripes 
Zatrephes cardytera 


“ 


“ce 


ce 


cc 


“cc 


NEW GENERA AND NEW SPECIES OF HOORIE MOTHS. 


Dichocrocopsis — 


Minacragides — 


Dichocrocopsis maculiferalis Dyar | Minacragides arnacis Dyar 


Hositea — 
Hositea gynaecia Dyar 
Incarcha — 


Incarcha aporalis Dyar | 


Thyonoea — 

Thyonaea dremma Dyar 
Zaevius — 

Zaevius calocore Dyar 


The Photographs and descriptions of these new genera and species 
have been published in Zoologica, Vol. 1, No. 4. 


INDEX. 


Tllustrations are indicated by page numbers in Italic. 


A. 


Abary, Birds of, 364, 365. 

Bungalow, 358. 

Island, 358, 359. 

River, 350, 360, 362. 

Admetus pumilio, 189, 190. 
Aequidens, 68, 69. 

Agouti, 160, 312, 315, 318. 
Agraulis vanillae, 375. 

Amazon Parrot. See Parrots. 
American Redstarts, accompanying 
army of hunting ants, 5o. 
Anableps anableps. See Four-eyed 

Fish. 
Anaconda, 26, 27, 240, 379. 
André, Eugene, x, 86, 89. 
Anis, 121, 131, 133, 358. 

Accompanying army of hunting 
ants, 49, 50°. 

Greater, flock of, 156, 157. 

Smooth-billed, 254. 

Anna Regina, 242, 243. 
Anopheles, 76. 
Antbirds, 194, 302, 303, 304. 

Accompanying army of hunting 
ants, 49. 

Scaly-backed, 324. 

White-shouldered Pigmy, 194. 

Ant-eater, 170. 

Great, 256, 257. 

Lesser, 305, 3006. 

Ants, Black, (Veoponera commu- 
tata), 49. 
Battle with hunting ants, 52. 

Houses of, 48, 49, 138. 

Hunting Ants (/citon), 49-54. 
Battle with Black Ants, 52, 53. 
Warfare in nests of other spe- 

cies, 54. 

Parasol, 49, 217, 218, 345. 

Fungi gardens of, 49. 


399 


Aremu, Camp on, 274, 275. 

Gold Mine, 285-288, 287, 289. 
Landing, 268. 

Little, 244-284, 276, 297. 
River, Big, 244, 268. 

Argeus labruscae, 211. 

Armadillo, 170, 324. 

Atta cephalotes, 138. 

Attacus (Hesperia) erycina, 211. 

Automeria cinctistriga, 213. 

B. 

Baboons. See Monkeys, Red Howl- 

ing. 

Bananaquits, 4o. 

Barama River, 158, 2106. 
Entrance of, 160, 161. 

Our tent boat on the, 1509. 

Barima River, 137. 

Barrabarra River, 219, 222-225. 

Barrimani Police Station, 158, 160. 

Bartica, 244, 245, 246. 

Bashew, 165. 

Bats, Fruit-eating, 121, 122. 
Manner of alighting, 43. 
Number of species of, 122. 
Scarab, 270. 

Vampires. See Vampires. 

Bee, Giant, 343, 344- 

Beetles, Bark, 2or. 

Brazilian, 268. 

Buprestid, 291, 348. 

Elater, Brown, 54, 55, 192. 
Larva of small species of, 55 

Longicorn, 288. 

Tiger, 201. 

Béte rouge, 144, 146. 

Biara River, 220-222, 2206. 

Bingham, Dr. Hiram, xi, 255, 354. 

Birds brought alive from British 

Guiana to New York Zo5log- 
ical Park, 116. 


400 


Bird Protection Ordinance of British 
Guiana, 115. 
Blaberus trapezoideus. 

roach. 
Blackbird, Red-breasted, 351, 353. 
Yellow-headed, 125, 351, 353. 


See Cock- 


Blacks. See Negro. 
Bois Immortelle trees, 42. 
Botanical Gardens, experimental 


botanical work, 131. 
Fauna of, 129-131, 133. 

Brassias, 218. 

British Guiana, climatic condition 
of coast of, 131. 

Bufo agua, 122, 123. 

Buffalo, Water, 129. 

Bunyahs. See Cassique, Red-backed 
and Yellow-backed. 

Bushmaster, 182, 183, 184, 277. 

Bushrope, aérial roots of, 2906. 

Butterflies, black and white, 193. 

Ghost, 343. 

Heliconias, 40, 343. 

Milkweed, 58. 

Morphos, 14, 187, 193, 250, 343: 
Orange shaded, 313, 314. 
Two species of, 163, 271. 

Orchid, 250, 251. 

Orange, 163, 187, 375. 

Owl, 40, 41, 42. 

Papilio, 193. 

Red Silverwing, 375. 

Swallow-tailed, 132. 

Transparent, 1906. 

Yellow, 163. 


Cc. 


Calf - bird. See 
headed. 
Caligo ilioneus, 40. 
Calliste, Black-faced, 127. 
Yellow-bellied, 127, 135, 243. 
Callidryas statira, 375. 
Calomesus psittacus, 14. 
Camaria Landing, 248, 250. 
Falls at Lower, 249. 
Upper, 250) 255: 
Canto San Juan, 75. 
Canos, exploring in dug-out, 21. 


Cotinga, Bare- 


INDEX. 


Canthon semiopacus, 270. 

Capnodes albicosta, 288, 289. 

Captain Truxillo, 22, 30, 74, 75, 78, 

82, 83, 90, OI, 104, zes: 
Capuchin Monkey, 6, 20, 24. 
Capybara, 22, 233, 254, 255, 282, 

381. 

Caracara, 131. ° 

Carey-Elwis, Father, 

163. 

Carib, Fish. See Perai. 
Indian hunter and children, 778. 
Indian huts at Hoorie, 179, 181. 
Indians, three generations of, 1S0. 

Carnegiella strigatus, 252. 

Cassiques, 125, 129. 

Big Green, Courtship of, 202. 

Flocking of, 214. 

Nests of, 36, 37, 236. 

Notes of, 37, 56, 201, 338. 

Red-backed, 137, 139, 142, 174, 

215. 

Colony of at Hoorie, 202-209. 

Eggs of, 205. 

Embryo, 205. 

Food of, 206, 207, 208. 

Nests of, 204, 205, 206, 208. 

Young birds, 205, 206, 207, 

208. 
Yellow-backed, 32, 137, 139, 142. 

Nesting of, 33, 34, 35, 36, 251 

I04. 

Castina licus, 250, 25T. 

Castus sp., 192,503: 

Caterpillar, black, 328, 329, 347. 

Catfish, Crucifix, 735245 
Armored, 68. 

Of Guiana, 164. 

Centis americana, 344. 

Centrurus margaritatus, 39. 

Cercoleptes caudivolvulus, 37. 

Chachalaca, Abundance near Gua- 

noco, 38. 

Voice of, 23, 24. 

Chameleon caterpillar, 191, 192. 

Chrysocestis fumbriaria, 212. 

Choloepus, 279. 

Cicadas, Chant of, 24. 

Chinese music of giant species, 25. 


Mission of, 


INDEX. 


Cicadas, Cicada grossa, 301, 302. 
Six-o’clock bee, 235, 338. 
Cinereus Becard, 131. 
Clavillina, 219. 
Cockroach, 45. 
Coelogenys paca, 305. 
Colaenis phaerusa, 375. 
Congo Pump, I9gI, 273. 
Coolie, of British Guiana, 117, 118, 
150. 
Indenture system, 148-149. 
Coolies and their wives fishing in 
Essequibo, 247. 
Cormorant, Guiana, 218, 275, 354. 
Cotinga, 304. 
Bare-headed, 332. 
Pompadour, 176, 179. 
Cotton Bird. See Flycatcher, White- 
shouldered Ground. 
Couchi-couchi. See Kinkajou. 
Cowbird, Guiana, 125, 202. 
Crab Oil. See Béte rouge. 
Crabs, 144. 
Dancing, 16, 17. 
Enemies of, 19. 
Inhabiting roots of mangroves, 17. 
Inhabiting trunks and branches of 
mangroves, 17, 18. 
Method of catching, 19. 
Mimicry among, 17, 18. 
Crabwood, 191. 
Crandall, Lee S:, ix, 125, 160, 171, 
182, 207, 209, 215, 385. 
Creepers, Blue Honey, 201, 298. 
Honey, 135, 160. 
Yellow-winged Honey, 158, 340. 
Crew. See Sloop. 
Crocodiles, 14, 15, 57. 
Canal of, 130, 380, 381, 382. 
Of the Aremu, 271. 
Cuckoos, Chestnut, 131. 
Cumaca trees, 269. 
Curassow, 255, 282. 
Crested, courtship of, 332, 33.3, 
334, 335; 336, 337; 338. 
Curlews, 8. 
Cuyuni River, 244, 248, 254, 259, 
269. 
Flowers of, 263. 


4OI 


Cuyuni River, Rapids of, 258, 260, 
2061, 262, 263, 204, 2606, 267, 
270. 


D. 


Deer, 160, £70; 246, 310, 311, 310; 
Savanna, 320. 
Dendrobates trivitatus, 293, 294. 
Desmodus rufus. See Vampire. 
Dicotyles labiatus., See Peccary, 
White-lipped. 
Dicotyles tajacu. See Peccary, Com- 
mon. 
Dirphia tarquinia, 211. 
Dolphins, 30. 
Douraquara. See Quail, Guiana. 
Dove, Red-winged Ground, 131, 
139. 
Dragon Fly, 270, 271. 
Diastatops tincta, 376. 
Erythrodiplax umbrata, 376. 
Erythrodiplax peruviana, 376. 
Dress suitable for woman on jungle 
trips, 195, 196. 
Drowned Forest of Hoorie, 
202. 
Ducks, Gray-necked Tree, 355, 356, 
357: 


Muscovy, 30, 135, 357, 359: 
Rufous Tree, 355. 


Vicissi, 383. 


198- 


E. 


Eagle, Guiana Crested, 137. 

Eciton, 49, 50. 

Berets, American, 137, 234, 352, 
353) 381. 

Snowy, 8, 64, 154, 158. 

Elainia. See Flycatchers. 

Electric eels, 170. 

Encounter with curiara in the Guara- 
piche, 22. 

Epidendrum fragrans, 22, 23. 

Epidendrum nocturnum, 241. 

Epidendrum odoratum, 269. 

Essequibo River, 134, 244, 245. 

Euchroma goliath, 29%. 

Eudioptis hyalinata, 212. 

Eunectes murinus. See Anaconda. 


402 


Euphonia, 139. 
Black-tailed, 4o. 
Purple-throated, 319. 
Violet, 240. 

Euptoieta hegesia, 375. 


P: 

Farnum’s 158, 214, 215. 

Felis concolor, 60, Ot. 

Ferns, tree, on Little Aremu, 278. 

Filo, 77,84. 

Flamingo, 234. 

Flycatchers, Elania, 131, I 32. 

Gray Tody, 131. 

Kiskadee, 37, 112, If4, 120, 12I, 
131, 135, 142, 148, 239, 247, 
357: 

Streaked, accompanying army of 
hunting ants, 50, 5. 

Tyrant, 116, accompanying army 
of hunting ants, 50. 

White-shouldered Ground, 65, 66, 
U3a; 

White-headed Marsh, 65. 

Flying Fish, Fresh Water, 252, 265, 
269. 

Salt Water, 253. 

Forest, drowned, 199. 

Four-eyed Fish, 14, 16, 19, 57, 237, 
239. 

Devoured by Crocodile, 15. 

Eyes of, 19. 

Fowler;. Mir3.275,/277- 

Francis, Jungle craft of, 316, 317, 
318, 220,- 32%, 2295 (AAG sage. 
333, 338: 

Frederick, 147-148, 151, 152. 

French, Mr., 248. 

Frigate-bird, 234. 

Frog, Bleating Calf, 277. 

Castanet, 242. 

Freight engine, 214, 277. 

Roaring, 277. 

Wing-beat, 238, 277. 


G. 
Galictis barbara, 321. 
Gallinules, 129. 
Purple, 378. 


INDEX. 


Georgetown, 112. 
Beauty of, 116. - 
Botanical Gardens of, 123. 
Chief points of attraction of, r2t. 
Inhabitants of, 112, 114. 
Museum of, 123. 
Sea Wall of, 79. 
Street life of, 116-118. 
Street ot, M7, 
Typical day of, 120, rat. 
Gillett, Father, 226, 227, 228, 230. 
Gold Bird, 187, 188, 189, 193, 220, 
246, 275, 307, 325,040. 
Gold, Long Tom process, 185, 186, 
187. 
Mines. See Aremu, Hoorie. 
Panning, 185, 186. 

Golden Shower Orchid, 220. 

Gonodonta pyrgo, 342. 

Grackle, Little Boat-tailed, 128. 

Grassfinches, 48. 

Grell, Ellis, x, 86, 87, go. 

Green-heart Bird. See Gold Bird. 

Green River Ibis, 253. 

Grosbeaks, Black-faced Green, 176. 
Black-headed Scarlet, 315. 
Brown-breasted Pigmy, 121, 127. 
Thick-billed Pigmy, 142. 

Gryllus argentinus, 348. 

Guanoco, Children of, 700, 104. 
Dances at, 97-103, 104. 

Fever at, 106. 

First night at, go-93. 

“Headquarters” at, 87, 88, 97. 

Inhabitants of, 97. 

Priestless chapel at, 105. 

Quarrel with United States of 
America, 98, 99. 

Revolutionary reports at, 98, 99. 

River of, 86. 

Suffering that came to, 106, 107: 

Village of, 32, 86. 

Women of, 106. 

Guan, 144, 235, 255) 313- 

Jacupeba, 321. 

Marail, 179. 
Guarapiche River, 20, 80, 81, 82. 
Guarauno Indians, 29. 

At Cafio Colorado, 8 3. 


INDEX. 


Guarauno Indians, Papoose, 107. 
Squaws, 85. 
Wandering tribes of, 103. 

Guard Ship, 75, 76. 
Venezuelan soldiers on board of, 

70. 
Guava, Water, 263. 
Gulls, Laughing, 134. 


H. 


Haasnoot, Captain, rrr. 
Haetera piera. See Butterfly, Trans- 
parent. 
Harrison, Prof. J. B., 123, 125. 
Harry, Mr., 385. 
Hawk, Caracara, 371, 372. 
Chima-chima, White-breasted, 62, 
64. 
Cream-headed, 354, 355. 
South American Black, 164. 
Heliconia butterfly. See Butter- 
flies. 
Heliconias, Scarlet, 58, 60. 
Hemiptycha (Umbonia) spinosa,213. 
Herons, Agami, 219. 
Boat-billed, 234. 
Cocoi, 8, 234, 245, 268, 355. 
Guiana Green, 129, 355, 371. 
Immature Blue, 64. 
Little Blue, 15, 154, 158. 
Louisiana, 154. 
Yellow-crowned Night, 154. 
Her petodryas carinatus, 386. 
Hoatzins, Eggs of, 371. 
Enemies of, 371, 372. 
Flight of, 28, 29. 
Flock of, 377. 
Food of, 29, 219. 
Habits of, at Abary, 366, 367, 368, 
309, 379; 372, 3735 375- 
Nesting of, 29, 3606, 371. 
Number at Abary, 350. 
On the Guarapiche, 28. 
Photographing, 367, 372, 373, 374. 
Sedentary life, of, 28, 29. 
Use of wings, 374. 
Voice of, 26, 28, 365. 
Young of, 28. 
Hodgson, Sir Frederick, x, 125. 


403 


Homalocranium melanoce phalum, 45, 
46. 

Hoorie mine, Average daily temper- 
ature at, 170. 

Bungalow, 170, 209. 

Creek, 164. 

Crossing stream on road to, 167. 

Drowned forest of, 198-202. 

Fauna around, 170, I7I, 209. 

Flora of, 192, 194, 195. 

Indian life near, 179-184, 189, 

190, IQT. 

Insects of, 209-213. 

‘Little Giant” at, 175. 

Mine, 167-169, 172. 

Wilderness trail to, 165-167, 108. 
Hoplias malabaricus, 68, 69. 
Hornaday, Dr. William T., xi. 
Hositea gynaecia, 212. 
Hummingbird, Long-tailed, 325. 

Rufous breasted, 307. 

White eye-browed, 307. 
f1ydrochoerus capybara. 

bara. 
Hy perchiria liberia, 213. 
Hy perchiria nausica, 213. 


I. 


Ibis. See Green River. See Scarlet. 
im Thurn, Sir Everard, house of, 
142, I4 3. 
Indian and the Law, 151, 152, 153. 
Boys in dug-out, 762. 
Three-year olds at home in wood- 
skin, 138. 
Insects. See Hoorie. 
Mounting of, 211, 212. 


‘iF 
Jabiru, 353, 354, 381. 
Jacamar, home of, 26. 
Paradise, 171, 173. 
Jacana, Spur-wing, 63, 64, 129, 354, 
378, 354; 385. 
“Josefa Jacinta.” See Sloop. 
Jaguar, 63, 160, 293. 
Jays, Lavender, 173; 174, 345: 
Jelly-fish, 4. 
Jones, Mr. B. Howell, x. 
Jumbie Birds. See Anis. 


See Capy- 


404 


K. 
Killicow. See Rail, Cayenne Wood. 
King, Howie, 129, 148. 
As magistrate of Morawhanna, 
149-151. 
Garden of, 146. 
House of, 142. 
Kingbirds, White-throated, 137. 
Kingfishers, Feeding on insects, 16. 
Red-breasted, 163. 
Rufous, 199, 282. 
Kinkajou, 37. 
Kiskadee. See Flycatchers. 
Kites, Swallow-tailed, 154, 250. 


Li. 


Labba. See Paca. 
La Brea, x, 30; 59. ‘See also Fitch 
Lake. 
La Ceiba, 20. 
Our floating home at, 13. 
Lilies, Spider, 47, 58, 225, 36.3. 
Lizards, At Morawhanna, 146. 
Protective coloration of, 43, 44, 
45. 
‘Tegu; 24, 146! 
Loricates. See Catfish, Armored. 
Lotus, 720. 


M. 
Macaws, 8. 

Blue and Yellow, 137, 338. 
Maestro, 14, 77, 80, 84, 85, 87. 
Manakin, Golden-crowned, 

343, 348. 

Gold-headed, 44 

Wallace Olive, 322. 

White-breasted, 44, 45. 

White-capped, 311. 
Manatee, 125/070, 1221, 222,.224: 

381. 
Mangrove, Flowers of, 15. 

Jungle, description of, 9-12. 

Manner of preparation of, fo. 

Map of trip through, 2. 

Red, 135, 153. 

Sunset in Mangrove wilderness, 


SO. 


342; 


IN DEX. 


Mangrove, White, 135, 153. 
Wilderness, 95. ~ 
Young plants, zz, 58. 

Mantis, 213, 289. 

Stagmomantis hoorie, 210. 
Map, of Abary Island, 367. 
Of three expeditions into British 
Guiana, TIO. 
Of trip through Mangrove Wild- 
erness, 2. 
Marciano, 255). 1222)520aqeoeAy 237, 
238,240, 242, 243% 

Marlborough Police Station, 237. 

Maroodie, See Guan. 

Martins, Gray Breasted, 112, 244, 

245, 247, 379. 

Matope, 253, 256, 258. 

Mazaruni River, 244, 246, 248. 
Steamer, 134, 141, 142. 

Maximiliano Romero, 101-102, 106. 

Mecistogaster sp., 270, 271. 

Mesomphalia discors, 268 

Mission, on Morooka River, 225. 
Wairamurl, 231, 233. 

Monkeys, Capuchin, 6, 20. 
Marmoset, 300. 

No fear of railroad, 56, 57. 
Red Howling, Description of, 325- 
326. 
As food, 3209. 
Voice of, 20, 56, 142, 170,197, 
277, 293, 325: 
Monstrera, 279. 
Mora Passage, 135, 146, 153, 174, 
175, 301. 

Mora Tree, 135, 137, 138, 209, 200. 

Morawhanna, 135. 

Typical Indian House of, 7 306. 
Home of Mr. Howie King at, 142. 

Morooka River, 225, 231. 
Agriculture on, 233. 

Morpho butterfly. See Butterflies. 

Mor pho metellus, 314. 

Mosquitoes, 12, 30, 39, 

12-114, . 120,.eaa5: 
235, 362, 364. 

Moths, Hawk, 210. 
Moon, 210. 

Owl, 213. 


70;, 630, 
144, 214, 


INDEX. 


Moths, Waltzing, 46, 47. 

Mountains of Venezuela, 30, 3I. 

Mount Everard, 135, 137, 139, 140, 
141. 

Béte rouge of, 144-146. 
Mucka-mucka, 219, 238, 251, 366. 
Muricot, 198. 
Mycetes seniculus. 

Red Howling. 
Myrmecophaga jubata, 256, 257. 


See Monkey, 


N. 


Negro of British Guiana, 117, 119. 
Neoponera commutata, 49. 
Nicholson, Mr., 253, 254, 256, 332. 
Notogonia sp. See Wasps. 


Nyctobates giganteus. See Beetles, 

Bark. 
O. 

Odocoileus savannarum. See Deer, 
Savanna. 

Odontochila cayennensis. See Bee- 
tles, Tiger. 

Odontochila confusa. See Beetles, 
Tiger. 

Odontochila lacordairei. See Beetles, 
Tiger. 


Opossum, 144, 308, 309. 
Orchids, fragrant white, 22, 23. 
Orinoco River, 4. 
Orioles, Moriche, 142. 

Yellow, 121, 127, 129. 
Ospreys, 156. 
Otter, 163, 281. 


is 


Paca, 160, 305. 

Paddlewood, 191, 301, 325. 

Palm sheath, rocking toy, 100. 
Covering flower of palm, 102. 

Papilio polydamus, 132. 

Parauque, 148, 263. 

Paria, Gulf of, 5, 75. 

Parrakeets, 30. 

Parrots, Amazon, Mealy, 174, 201, 

233 234, 235- 

Blue-headed, flocking of, 157-158. 
Dusky, 344. 


405 


Parrots, Dusky, Young of, 344, 345. 
Yellow fronted, 66, 135, 146. 

Eggs of, 67, 68. 
Home of, 64. 
Island of in Pitch Lake, 62, 63. 
Nest of, 65, 66. 
Young of, 67, 68. 

Passiflora laurtfolia. 
Flower. 

Passion Flower, 272, 273. 

Paxillus leachii, 201. 

Peccary, common, 160, 170, 233, 
255, 2560, 347. 

White-lipped, 256. 

Pepe-yo. See Gold Bird. 

Perai, 160, 170, 198. 

Peridromia feronia, 43. 

Peripatus, discovery of and descrip- 
tion of, 46. 

Perseverance Landing, 258. 

Petroea arborea, 187. 

Phosphorescence off coast of British 
Guiana, ITI. 

Pickersgill Police: Station, 239, 240. 

Pieris monuste, 375. 

Pigmy Owl, 40. 


See Passion 


Pipe-fish, 160. 
Pipitoori. See Flycatcher, Gray 
Tody. 


Pistia stratiodes. See Shell Flower. 
Pitch Lake, of Venezuela, 30, 59, 
SS. 
Daily life at, 94-96. 
Digging pitch, go. 
Early morning trips to, 55-61. 
Flora of, 63, 64. 
History of, 91-92. 
Jungle railroad to, 55, 56, 57. 
Loading cars at, 93. 
“Mother” of, O17, 62,63: 
Plover, 8. 
Poc-a-poo, 235. 
Poeciloptera phalaenoides, 132, 133. 
Polybia sp., 299, 300. 
Pomeroon River, 234—240. 
Ponton. See Guard Ship. 
Porcupine Tree, 36, 37. 
Pork-knocker, 187, 188, 256, 258, 
287, 288, 


406 


Port of Spain, 3, 4. 

Street life of, 119. 
Protective resemblances, 41, 42, 43, 

44. 

Pseudauchenipterus nodosus, 13. 
Psidium fluviatile, 263. 
Pterochroya ocellata, 213. 
Puff-fishes, 14, 15. 
Puma, South America, 60, 61. 
Purple heart trees, 163. 
Pyrophorus sp., 54, 55- 


O; 
Quadrille-bird, 188, 309, 310, 321, 
aac 


Quail, Guiana, 340, 341. 


R. 


Racheolopha nivetacta, 211. 
Rail, Cayenne Wood, 378. 
Robins, White-breasted, 116. 


White-throated, 322, 323, 324, 
340. 
Rhyncophorus palmatum. See Wee- 


vil. 
Rodway, James, 123, 132. 


S. 


Salapenta, 146. 
Saman Wrées, 132; 142: 
Sandpipers, 8. 
Solitary, 263. 
Spotted, 58, 156. 
Sapadillo, 121, 127. 
scarlet Ubis;, "7, 8750, 52, st 55. 
Scorpion, 39, 46. 
Battle with Caterpillar, 291, 292. 
Whip, 189, 190. 
Screamer, Horned, 381. 
Sea-cows. See Manatee. 
Seedeaters, 60, 142. 
Blue-backed, 171. 
Semiotus ligneus, 192. 
Serenades, by negroes from Pitch 
Lake; 100, 10x: 
Serrasalmo scapularis, 160. 
Shell Flower, 218. 
Shypook. See Heron, Guiana Green. 


INDEX. 


Silk Cotton Trees, 163. 
Sigh heard in the Mangrove forest 
and explanation of, 26. 
Sumit, 272, 273 
Skimmers, 8, 135, 148. 
Sloop, Anchored in Guanoco River, 
as 
At La Ceiba, 78. 
Description of, 3, 71. 
Description of crew of, 77. 
Entering Mangroves, 5. 
First night on board, 72-75. 
Loss of, 108. 
Saying good-by to, 93. 
Sloths, 37, 61, 170, 246. 
Three-toed, 279, 280, 281. 
Snake-birds, 30, 137, 251, 252, 354. 
Sphingurus prehensilis, 36, 37. 
Spider lilies. See Lilies. 
Spider, Pedipalp. See Scorpion. 
Sproston, 248. 
Squirrels, Orange and gray, 24. 
Stagmomantis hoorie. See Mantis. 
Stomolophus meleagris, 4. 
Stork, Maguari, 155, 156. 
Sugarcane, experimented on _ in 
Botanical Gardens, 131. 
Sun-bittern, 25, 60, 86. 
Suddie, 243. 
Swallows, Banded, 162, 
200, 265, 379. 
Barn, 247, 379- 
Emerald and white, 24. 
Red-breasted, 379. 
ree; 270: 
Variegated, 247, 265, 
381. 
Swift, Feather-toed, 144. 
Nest of, .143,,170: 
Gray-rumped, 289, 292. 
Palm, 56. 


ieee ae70, 


378, 379, 


TT. 


Tacuba, 269, 279. 
Taliput palm, 125, 728. 
Tamandua tetradactyla. 
eater, Lesser. 
Tanager, Black-faced, 131. 
Blue, 127, 139, 142; a7 


See Ant- 


INDEX. 


Tanager, Magpie, 138, 139. 
Palm, 37, 116, 139, 142, 144, 147, 
Pyt. 
Silver-beak, 116, 139, 
292. 
Tapakuma, Lake, 241. 
River, 240, 241. 
Tarantulas, 100, IOI, 199, 215, 218, 
219, 265. 
Tapir, 144, 255. 
Tarpon, 379. 
Tayras, 321. 
Tegu Lizard, 24, 146. 
Teius nigropunctatus. 
Lizard. 
Temperature, of Hoorie, 170. 
Of Mangrove Forest of Venezu- 
ela, 12. 
Tern, Great-billed, 154, 378. 
Least, 378. 
Yellow-billed, 8. 
Testudo tabulata. 
South American. 
Thrush, Black-capped Mocking, 4o, 
376. 
Thysania agrippina. 
Moon. 
Thurn, Everard F. im. 
Thurn. 
Tiger Bittern, 282. 
Tiger, Warracabra, 381. 
Tinamou, Great Blue, 
of, 48. 
Discovery of nest and eggs of, 
47, 48. 
Guiana Crested, 318, 319. 
Little, 330. 
Tityra, Black-tailed, 177, 179. 
Toads, of Georgetown, 122, 123. 
Telegraph, 238. 
Tree, music of, 161. 
Tortoise, South American, 297, 2098. 
Toua-toua. See Grosbeak, Brown- 
breasted Pigmy. 
Toucans, 30, 158. 
As food, 328. 
Black-banded Aracari, 174. 
Feeding of, 327, 328. 
Red-billed, 174, 268, 326, 327. 


I7I, 240, 


See Tegu 


See ‘Tortoise, 


See Moth, 


See im 


Description 


407 


Toucans, Red-breasted, 175. 
Sulphur- and White-breasted, 174. 

Trapping birds, 125-129. 

Tree-hopper, 213. 

Trinidad, 3, 4. 

Trogon, Yellow-bellied, 250, 269. 

Trumpeters, 60, 117, 179, 255, 256, 
330-332, 338: 

Twa-twa. See Grosbeak, Thick- 
billed Pigmy. 

Tyrantlet, Buff-tailed, 313. 


V. 


Vampires, 227, 258, 263, 269, 277. 
Victoria regia, 116, 123, I24, 129. 
Vinton, Mr. and Mrs. Lindley, 350, 
385. 
Vireo, Brown-throated, 322. 
Vulture, Black, 112, 121. 
King, 137. 
Orange-headed, 292, 321, 383. 


W. 


Waini River, 153, 154, 158, 160. 
Walking Sticks, 289, 290. 
Warracabra. See ‘Trumpeter. 
Wasps, 24, 25, 40. 
Nests of, 131. 
N otogonia, 347. 
Protection of Cassiques by, 34, 35. 
Waterhaas. See Capybara. 
Water Hyacinth, 218. 
Water Lemon. See Simitt. 
Weevils, Palm, 45. 
Welcome of Wilderness, 88-90. 
“Who-are-you ? ”’ 383. 
Wilderness, early morning in, 346. 
Wilshire, Mr. Gaylord, x, 134, 182, 
227, 305. 
Mrs. Gaylord, x, 134, 215, 275. 
Witch Birds. See Anis. 
Withers, Mr., house of at Bartica, 
246-248. 
Wood Ibis, 353, 381. 
Woodhewers, 131, 194, 220, 246, 284, 
303, 304, 322, 348. 
Accompanying hunting ants, 49. 
Cinnamon spine-tail, 304, 379. 


408 INDEX. 


Woodhewers, Clinging to trunk of | Wren, Guiana House, 112, 120, 142, 


tree, 50. 247, 307, 308, 379. re 
Music of, 161, 193. Jungle, 340. 
Wedge-billed Pigmy, 339, 340. Marsh, 324. 
Woodpeckers, 30. Necklaced Jungle. See Qua- 
Guiana Ivory-bill, 200, 201. drille-bird. 
Red-crested; , 48, 202. 211; 352, 
313. Z.. 


Yellow, 40, 4I. Zaevius calocore, 212. 


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